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Creampie Cathy

I saw immediately that her pussy had transformed like her attitude. Her pussy was no longer a fleshy pink. Now it was a vivid deep red, and I could literally feel the heat emanating from her. Creampie Cathy wasn't puffy so much as engorged and raw. Her sexuality was compelling and overpowering.

"Tell me you want to eat his cum," she hissed at me.

"I want to eat his cum," I said, my heart racing as the words issued forth. If she were full of another man's seed, I'd want her just like this.

"Then, eat it," she demanded. As a prod, she grabbed my hair and roughly pulled me into her crotch. Within moments, my neck ached as I lunged to bury my face inside her. I wanted my lips permanently attached to her hot box. Flailing my arms, I pulled pillows under my head to prop me up.

As I suspected, creampie Cathy couldn't hold this position for long. Instead, her legs shifted so that she was on her knees. Only now, my head was supported by the pillows several inches above the mattress. Her weight pushed my face down into the pillows, and I was smothered by her steamy crotch.

Cathy has become quite adept at smothering in the time I have known her. She has learned how much I like being denied breath until she allowed it. Then I could gasp for too-brief moments before her cunt enveloped me again. Now she put that to use, forcing me to gasp for breath right over her clit. When I did--one, two quick gasps of air--it rattled over her sensitive bud, vibrating it.

Being smothered is wonderful, for a while. Then my body demanded more air than I could give, and it took real attention to service her and fight the desire to throw her off so that I wouldn't suffocate. It was when the temptation to heave her off became incredibly strong that she came. At the same time, creampie Cathy ground back and forth on my face, coating me with the creampie and her wetness.

Groaning, she rolled off me. Her knees ached from her face-sitting. I suddenly couldn't stop telling her how much I loved her, wanted her, found her exciting. I was overwhelmed with romantic love for this woman who used me so roughly.

"Shut up," she growled, her voice still filled with lust. "Put on your glasses."

Silently, I did what she said. I couldn't help but look at the clock; it was later than normal due to the longer after-sex. Creampie Cathy knew I would, and she looked me in the eyes when I checked the time.

Her voice was insistent. "Come here and eat my ass," she demanded. She was laying on her stomach, and with both hands pulled her cheeks apart to reveal her needy back door. How could I resist that? I couldn't.

I nestled between her legs and pressed my cheeks between hers. My tongue sought and found her acrid bunghole. She sighed contentedly, and I knew she would cum while I tongued her backside. But the time!

"Look at the clock while you eat my ass," she moaned. "You are giving me the time I want, you slut. You are putting me first."

"You are first," I moaned, realizing she was right. Oftentimes, she got short shrift, which wasn't right. I loved her: she should come first in my life.

"I will be first from now on," she sighed. "Oh yeah, eat my fucking ass! Eat my ass until I cum, then fuck it until you cum," she gasped.

Later, I contemplated how different it would be to put her first in my life. It'd be a real paradigm shift, and one I would welcome. Creampie Cathy deserved it.

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