Suck my tits while I ride you: an ode to watching

Image by the incredible Stuart F Taylor

One of the benefits of being tall is that men can suck my tits while I’m riding them. Watching a guy suck my tits is as beautiful as the phrase ‘suck my tits’ is clumsy. There should be a better way of saying this, but I can’t think of one, so instead I ask with gestures.

I make eye contact with him, then drop my gaze to the open neck of my shirt, unbuttoning it with one hand and drawing the fabric down to expose myself.

While we’re kissing, I curve my hand around the back of his head and gently nudge him down past my neck to my nipples. And then I moan when he gets there, to show him he’s in the right place.

I could watch him like this forever: head bowed as he sucks my tits. Eyes occasionally flicking up to see the expression on my face, before quickly flicking back down again to focus on the task in hand.

I had never understood, until I met him, the joy that previous boyfriends have felt when they watched me suck their cocks. I knew they liked to watch: that much was obvious from the fact that they did. From the way they’d often hold my hair to one side or tip their hips or shift position so they could get a better view.

But I never understood the mesmerising joy of watching someone suck at you for ages. Now I can feel it – fully understand it – because he sucks my tits for as long as I want him to. And I get to stare, entranced, at every detail of him as he sucks at me: the shape of the curve of the back of his head, and the way his lips press against my skin, and the sleepy curve of his closed eyelids as he concentrates. Alternating hard sucks, gentle ones, small nips with his teeth and flickers with his tongue.

He’ll sit on the sofa, with his legs together – dick stiff and pointing upwards, perfect for grinding against with my clit. His thick, hard shaft pressed tight into the slit of my cunt, as I rock up and down. I make the most of the erection I’m sitting on while he obliges with more of what I want: soft wet lips around my nipples and his face pressed tight into the warm flesh of my tits.

When I pull away he knows it’s not because I want him to stop, but because I want him to swap. I watch his head turn and his eager mouth open and his tongue reach out to flick at the next nipple, before he takes my other breast in his mouth.

And so it goes, whenever I’m on top of him. My usual desire to display and perform can take a back seat if he’s willing to suck my tits instead. I lean forward, arms spread and gripping the bed frame, tracing one of my nipples over his lips. Eagerly, instinctively, he sucks my tits while I ride him.

When I’m on top, usually I’m keen for him to come. I want him to have a quick orgasm that I can wear like a badge of pride: I did this. Quickly. I was so good and so hot that he couldn’t control himself. It’s an odd blend of self-consciousness and narcissism that I’ve never quite managed to shake, but that I’ll try to sell as selflessness so I don’t have to think too hard about the implications. Most of the time, when I’m on top, what I want is for him to come quickly.

But when he sucks my tits, really getting into it, I am surprised by how desperate I am to slow things down. To eke it out: ride him for longer. So the sensation of his tongue flicking at my nipples lasts as long as is humanly possible. Watching, mesmerised, as he sucks on my tits, I’m no longer aching for him to come, fucking hard and fast so I can earn my badge of pride. Instead I’m happy to rock back and forward slowly – teasingly – watching his head bobbing from one breast to the other to make sure the sensation comes evenly. Feel his mouth alternating – hard and soft, firm and gentle, until lines of ticklish pleasure zip from my chest to my crotch.

I don’t want it to stop. So when he twitches and tenses up, in the moments before he comes, I pause at the top of a stroke. Holding the head of his cock just inside the entrance to my cunt, and using one of my hands to support the curve of his head as he sucks on one of my nipples, and I wait until his pre-orgasmic tingles have died off before I plunge my cunt back down onto him.

When long strokes get too much I hold myself down at the base of his dick, listening to his soft moans – muffled by the flesh of my chest – and grinding ever-so-gently to avoid tipping him over.

I pinch his nipples with my fingers, with the exact same pressure I want him to use on mine.

And I ride him. And watch him. And ride him. While he greedily sucks on my tits.

But it never lasts as long as I want.

Because I want it to last forever.

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