Page 42 of Memoir of a Heaux
“Dinero! I’m about to—to cum.” I moaned.
When he went from an in-and-out motion to a side-to-side motion. I screamed and shook through an orgasm so hard that I bit my tongue by accident.
He grabbed my face roughly to refocus me, “You forgot how to count, pretty?” He asked, pecking my lips and speeding his hand up again.
“Two! Wait…” I begged.
He gripped my thigh and continued to finger me into another orgasm.
“Gah damn, pretty!” He said once the force of the third one damn near forced his fingers out of me.
I had tears welling up in my eyes. I struggled to breathe at that point. I was heaving. He finally removed his hand from me, his fingers and down to his wrist were coated with my explosion.
He wiped his finger across my lip and savored the taste of me from them as well.
“Three.” I smiled sheepishly, finally remembering to keep count. The thought made me check the wall. My eyes widened when I realized that there were 79 more minutes still on the clock.
“That clock has to be wrong. Like one of those trick clocks that starts over every other minute.” I challenged.
He chuckled. “You think so?”
“There’s no other way,” I assured him.
He angled his head to the side and looked at me quizzically.
Then he adjusted the seat so that I could lie back. Legs spread eagle in front of him. I could no longer see anything but the top of his head. It was quiet for a while, and the way he was quiet and hadn’t touched me yet made me nervous again.
“Since you feel like that, pretty. I want you to keep your eyes open and on the clock for two minutes and thirty seconds. You’ll know when to start keeping count. Okay?”
“Yes,” I said with confusion.
In fact, I did not know when to start keeping count. I thought he just wanted me to watch the clock, but with the first flick of his tongue, I realized that this man was playing in my face.
“Ouuu,” I moaned as he slurped up the mess that he had left before.
“Fuck!” He cursed as I watched the seconds on the clock roll by just as they should. I could barely focus because Dinero was gripping my thighs and eating me like no one ever had.
He clicked on my swollen clit with precision. I could feel his chin slipping against my entrance and his nose against my mound. But when he sucked my clit into his mouth and did something like he was beat boxing, I came again.
I couldn’t run from him. Couldn’t clamp my thighs around his head and ride the feeling until it subsided, nor could I push him away.
Not even letting the feeling of the orgasm pass, he slapped my sensitive clit with a sting that made me wince.
“I won’t tell you again about the count.” He said from between my legs.
“Four,” I whined. I looked at the clock. Two fucking minutes and nine seconds. He was a cocky son of a gun.
I couldn’t focus on the pain that shot through my midsection because he eased it in a matter of seconds. He was sucking, licking, kissing, blowing, and eating my pussy.
This man would easily win a pussy eating competition by a landslide. My nails dug into the material of the cushion, holding me steady when the next wave of an orgasm shot through me.
“Ahhhhhhhh! Dinero!” This time, tears flowed freely as I quaked hard against the leather.
This must be what taking ecstasy feels like.I thought to myself as this overwhelming amount of pleasure coursedthrough my body. It felt like I had been dropped off in a universe where everything in the world was right.
I lay back, and all my limbs went limp. I just stared into outer space when I finally focused on the clock. There were 68 minutes and some seconds left.
“Twenty-one minutes,” I mumbled in disbelief. Twenty-one minutes is all it took for Dinero to make me orgasm five times.
