Torture

I can't get the image of M's glistening cock out of my head. I'm sitting here, minding my own business, and I get a flash of his cock fully erect. It's dark with desire and directed towards my mouth as I bend down to lick.

M's cock is shiny from my saliva, and we're in the middle of changing positions, as I steal a glance before bending down to renew my oral attentions. It strains towards me, deeply reddened and his balls fit perfectly in my hand, like a sun warmed peach. I squeeze his balls, testing their firmness and tug gently, running my fingertips across the ridge behind them. I use my nails to gently scrape the sensitive flesh between his balls and asshole, teasing between his ass cheeks a bit, making him wonder if I'll enter his ass with a finger or two.

The head of his cock I rub across my lips, he's so slippery I have to capture the head between my lips so he doesn't drop away. I take him in further flattening my tongue against the underside of his shaft. I want to get him dripping with spit, lubing him up to deep throat.

Once he's slick, I press him further into the back of my throat. Bent over with him fully embedded in my face I can't breathe, and I fight against the urge to choke and cough, continuing to press him in as far as possible. He puts his hand to the back of my head, and I sense that familiar pop when he gets past that last barrier in the back of my throat. I relax and suppress my gagging as he pulls out and slams back into me. Over and over he ponds into my mouth, pausing for a moment or two once he buried all the way, then pulling out to thrust in again.

My nose begins to run and I haven't had a good breath during this entire onslaught. I can only manage to grab a few gasps between choking thrusts. My clit is a hard pebble screaming for attention and I can feel the wetness seeping from between my pussy lips. I have been known to become so wet that a thread drips to the mattress to pool on my sheets. It embarrasses me how turned on I become from performing oral sex on M, it creates the conflict between finishing him off with my mouth or fucking him with my aching pussy.

The dilemma of choosing is possibly why this image is just a flash, and has no orgasmic conclusion. I receive the succession of images, flash* flash* flash*, and I respond to it physically immediately. Sense memory come flooding into me and I feel him against my tongue, smell his scent filling my head, I get dizzy with it. My ears buzz with his rare grunts, his heavy breathing, and the infrequently moaned "Oh fuck".

I imagine his eyes following the curves of my body across my back to the dimples above my ass and over the mounds of my ass cheeks. I can almost feel the creeping fingers dipping in between the cleft of my ass, invading my asshole. It makes me wriggle when he does that, and I have sometimes been restrained with his hands; my face impaled on his cock while his finger explores my asshole.

I want to do all this and more. My brain embroiders and expands these fantasies without my even trying. I try to shake my head to free them, I try to write them out to exorcise them, I play with myself to satisfy them, but it refuses to lessen. Every orifice is hungry and aching to be filled. My veins vibrate with desire. My skin is so sensitive. My hands travel to my clit absentmindedly, and I find myself rubbing before I realize what I'm even doing.

It's torture.