Larissa Weems x Fem reader
The steam from our shower hadnât even begun to dissipate, clinging to the bathroom mirrors in a thick, warm fog. Larissa stood by the bed, a vision wrapped in nothing but a towel tucked loosely above her breasts. A single drop of water traced a path from her damp hair, down the elegant column of her neck, over her collarbone, and disappeared into the shadowed valley between the towel. My mouth went dry.
I donât know how she does this to me.
âYouâre staring, babyâ she murmured, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
âI canât help itâ I crossed the room, the plush carpet soft under my bare feet. I didnât break eye contact as I reached for the knotted towel. âYouâre always so beautiful, Larissa.â
I tugged the end of the towel, and it unraveled, falling away from her body in a soft heap at her feet. She was fully exposed, and the sight of her always, always stole the air from my lungs. Her skin was flushed a delicate pink from the heat of the shower, smooth and warm under my palms as I settled my hands on her hips. Her breasts were full and heavy, her nipples already tight, dark peaks against her skin. My gaze traveled lower, over the gentle curve of her stomach, to the neat triangle of dark, silken curls at the junction of her thighs.
I need to taste you. The thought was a drumbeat in my skull, a primal, urgent need. Right now.
I dropped to my knees before her, my own towel falling away, forgotten. The scent of her clean skin and her own intimate, musky sweetness filled my head. I nuzzled my face against the inside of her thigh, feeling the powerful muscle there tense in anticipation. Her skin was so soft here, impossibly soft.
âY/nâŚâ she breathed, her voice already laced with a want that mirrored my own.
I didnât make her wait, mostly because I couldnât. I hooked my arms around her thighs, pulling her forward until her center was level with my mouth. I blew a soft, warm stream of air across her wetness, and she shuddered, her fingers tangling in my hair. Not yet, I thought. I want to savor this.
I started slow, using the flat of my tongue to lick a broad, wet stripe from her entrance all the way up to the sensitive nub of her clit. She gasped, a sharp, beautiful sound, and her hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk. Her taste exploded on my tongue. Clean, slightly salty, and utterly, uniquely her. It was the most intoxicating flavor in the world.
âFuck, yesâ she moaned, her grip on my hair tightening.
That was all the encouragement I needed. I dove in, feasting on her like she was my last meal. I licked and sucked, tracing intricate patterns around her clit before focusing all my attention on that perfect, hard little pearl of sensation. I flicked my tongue over it rapidly, then sucked it gently between my lips, humming against her. Her thighs trembled on either side of my head.
âRight there, donât stop, fuck, donât you dare stopâ she chanted, her words starting to slur into incoherence. âPlease babyâ she moaned.
I slid two fingers inside her, and her inner muscles clenched around me instantly, so hot and wet and tight. I curled my fingers, searching for that rough patch inside her, and when I found it, she cried out, a raw, broken sound. I fucked her with my fingers in a steady rhythm, my mouth never leaving her clit.
This was when she lost control. Her gentle guidance became something more demanding, more desperate. Her hands fisted in my hair, not just holding me in place but pulling me harder against her. She began to move, rolling her hips, grinding her swollen, wet cunt against my mouth and nose with a frantic, needy energy.
âEat meâ she demanded, her voice guttural, unlike her usual melodic tone. âEat my fucking pussy. Make me come.â
I was drowning in her. The scent of her arousal, the taste of her, the feel of her slick skin against my face, the sounds of her ragged pleas, it was sensory overload in the best way possible. I could feel my own arousal, a throbbing, empty ache between my legs, but it was secondary. This was my focus. Her pleasure was my only goal.
I redoubled my efforts, my jaw aching in the most satisfying way. I fucked her with my fingers harder, deeper, while my tongue worked her clit in furious, tight circles. Her grinding became more erratic, her movements frantic. She was using my face, fucking herself on it, and it was the hottest thing I had ever experienced.
âIâm gonna comeâ she warned, her voice a strained whisper. âIâm gonna come all over your fucking face.âDo it, I thought, my own silent plea. Let me feel it.
Her whole body went rigid. A guttural cry was torn from her throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated release. Her cunt convulsed around my fingers, a series of intense, rhythmic pulses, and a fresh flood of her essence coated my chin. I didnât let up, licking her through every last shudder, gentling my touch as her climax began to subside, drawing out every possible second of her pleasure.
Her grip on my hair finally loosened, her hands falling to her sides. Her legs were shaking so violently I had to hold her up, keeping my face buried against her, softly kissing her through the aftershocks. She slumped forward, her hands resting on my shoulders for support, her breathing a ragged, desperate sound in the quiet room.
After a long moment, she looked down at me, her eyes glassy and unfocused. A slow, sated smile spread across her face. âFuck.â
I smiled up at her, my chin glistening. âYou taste so good.â
She laughed, a breathy, exhausted sound. âYouâre fucking insatiable.â She traced my lower lip with her thumb. âI want to ride your face until you canât fucking think straight.â
Her hips bucked as the words left her mouth.
I stood up, keeping my hands on her so she wouldnât stumble.
âGood because I think itâs going to be impossible for you to get my hands and mouth off of you for the rest of the night.â
