Chapter 7: Sunrise Session: New course
The next morning, I woke to a warm, wet pressure on my cock. The room was bathed in the soft, grey light of dawn. I didn’t open my eyes at first, just let the sensation pull me up from sleep—a gentle, insistent suction, the slick slide of a tongue under my foreskin. I moaned, my hips lifting off the mattress of their own accord.
“There he is,” Alice whispered, her breath hot against my shaft. She took me deeper, her throat working, her hand cradling my balls. I looked down. She was naked, of course, her curls a mess, her green eyes watching me from over the ridge of my pelvis. She looked predatory and serene all at once.
My hands went to her head, not to guide, just to feel the reality of it. Last night hadn’t been a dream. The taste of her was still a ghost on my tongue. As she sucked, a reckless, hungry thought formed in my sleep-addled brain.
I mumbled, my voice thick, “Teach me to eat your ass.”
She stopped, my cock slipping from her mouth with a soft pop. She didn’t look shocked. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Curious about everything, aren’t you?” she said, her voice low and raspy from sleep and use. “Okay. But we do it my way.”
In one fluid, powerful motion, she swung her leg over my head. She didn’t lower herself onto my mouth. Instead, she remained poised above me, one hand braced on the headboard. Her cunt was a beautiful, swollen mystery an inch from my lips, but lower, between the perfect, firm globes of her ass, I saw the tight, dark pucker of her asshole.
“Look first,” she instructed. “See how it’s different? It’s more sensitive. Nerve endings everywhere. It’s not for fucking. Not yet. It’s for worship.”
She lowered herself slowly, not onto my tongue, but until her asshole hovered just above my mouth. The musky, deep scent of her back there was overwhelming, animal, and utterly compelling. “Kiss it,” she said. “Just the outside. Soft, dry kisses.”
I tilted my head up, pressing my lips against the wrinkled, tight knot of flesh. It was soft, surprisingly so. I kissed it again, my tongue darting out to trace the outer rim. She shuddered above me.
“Yes. Now lick. Like you’re licking the finest ice cream. Slow circles.”
I obeyed, lapping at her asshole with broad, flat strokes of my tongue. The taste was earthy, musky, a concentrated essence of her sweat and skin. I felt it clench under my tongue, then relax, opening slightly.
“Deeper,” she gasped, her hips making tiny circles. “Push your tongue in. Just the tip. Fuck my ass with your tongue.”
I pressed the point of my tongue against the resistant ring. It yielded, letting me inside a fraction of an inch. The heat was incredible. I fucked her with shallow, probing thrusts of my tongue, my nose buried in the soaked cleft of her pussy. The combined scents were making me lightheaded.
“Oh, god, Marcus,” she moaned, her hand leaving the headboard to grip my hair. She began to move, riding my face in a slow, grinding rhythm, fucking her asshole onto my tongue. The wet sounds were obscene. I loved them.
My own need was a frantic pulse. I was painfully hard, untouched, leaking onto my stomach. As if reading my mind, she bent forward, taking my cock back into her mouth in one long, deep swallow. The dual sensation was astronomical—the tight, hot ring of her ass on my tongue, the tight, hot suction of her throat on my cock.
I was lost. I ate her ass with a ravenous hunger, licking and probing, while she bobbed her head on my shaft, gagging slightly but never stopping. My free hand found her dripping cunt and I pushed two fingers inside, crooking them to find that rough spot she’d taught me. I rubbed it in time with the thrusts of my tongue.
Her rhythm broke. She screamed around my cock, the vibration traveling through my entire body. Her asshole spasmed violently around my tongue, a series of clutching, rhythmic pulses. Her cunt gushed, soaking my hand and wrist. She convulsed, her thighs clamping around my head, her throat constricting on my shaft.
When the waves subsided, she slid off me, panting. She turned and knelt between my legs, her face flushed, her lips swollen. Without a word, she took me back into her mouth. This time, there was no patience, no lesson. It was pure need. She deep-throated me with a frantic, sloppy intensity, her saliva dripping down my balls. She gagged, coughed, and took me again.
I couldn’t last. My orgasm ripped through me, a blinding, silent explosion. I thrust up into the wet heat of her mouth, emptying myself in long, pulsing jets. She swallowed every drop, her throat working, until I was spent, hypersensitive, trembling.
She crawled up my body and kissed me hard on the mouth. I could taste myself on her lips—bitter, salty. The intimacy of it was more shocking than anything else. She pulled back, her eyes gleaming.
“Now,” she said, her voice wrecked and happy. She rolled onto her stomach, pulling a pillow under her hips, arching her back. She spread her legs, then reached back to spread her cheeks, offering herself to me completely. “Do it without me talking. Show me what you learned. Take your time. Learn every part of me.”
I moved between her legs. In the cool morning light, her ass was a perfect, pale landscape. I started not with her asshole, but with the inside of her thighs, kissing the soft skin there, licking up the traces of her arousal. I nuzzled the crease where her thigh met her buttock. I took my time, exploring the full, rounded swell of each cheek with my hands and mouth.
Finally, I returned to her center. I licked her from clit to asshole, over and over, until she was gasping into the pillow. Then I focused on the tight star of her anus. I licked it like I was trying to memorize its shape. I probed it with my tongue until it relaxed and opened for me. I fucked her ass with my tongue until my jaw ached, while my fingers worked her pussy and clit.
She came again with a muffled shout, her body seizing, her ass clenching hard around my tongue. I didn’t stop. I gentled my touch, then built her up again, slower this time, until she was begging into the sheets, “Please, please, oh fuck, right there,” before shuddering through a third, softer, endless climax.
She finally collapsed, completely spent. I lay down beside her, my face damp, my body humming with a power I’d never felt. She turned her head on the pillow. Her smile was soft, unguarded.
“You’re a natural,” she whispered, her eyes already closing. “My smart, hungry boy.”
She drifted back to sleep beside me, her breathing deepening almost instantly. I stared at the ceiling, the taste of her still embedded in the grooves of my tongue, a permanent record. My mind was a frantic static, unable to reconcile the worship I felt for her with the crude, grinding hunger she’d unlocked in my guts.
I must have dozed. When I woke again, the sun was higher, hotter, a blade of light cutting across her hip. She was awake, propped on an elbow, just watching me. Her fingers were tracing idle patterns through the sparse hair on my chest, down my sternum, circling my navel.
“You’re thinking too loud,” she murmured. Her hand drifted lower, through the thicker thatch at my pelvis, her fingers barely grazing my soft cock. It stirred anyway. It always did for her. “Stop thinking. Just feel. This is all that’s real.”
Her fingers closed around me, not roughly, but with a certainty that bypassed my brain completely. She pulled my shaft upright, her thumb smearing the bead of moisture already gathered at the tip. I hissed.
“See?” she said, her voice a low hum. “Your body knows what it wants. It’s honest.”
She bent her head, her curls tickling my thighs. She didn’t take me in her mouth. Instead, she began to stroke me with a steady, practiced rhythm, her fist gliding up and down my length, using my own slickness to smooth the way. It was maddening. I bucked into her hand, but she controlled the pace, tightening her grip on the upstroke, just shy of painful.
Then she dipped her head further. Her tongue, hot and flat, swiped slowly from the base of my balls all the way up the underside of my shaft. I jolted. She did it again, lingering at the sensitive spot behind my balls, laving it with slow, purposeful strokes.
“Fuck, Alice,” I grunted, my hands fisting in the sheets.
“Shhh,” she whispered against my skin, her breath a damp caress. “Just feel it.”
ALICE TOOK MY ERECTED SHAFT AND STARTED STROKING, WHILE SHE LICKED MY BALLS. She sucked one into the wet heat of her mouth, rolling it with her tongue, while her hand worked me relentlessly. Then she switched to the other, lavishing the same obscene attention on it. The dual sensation was brutal, overwhelming—the intense, focused pressure of her mouth on my most vulnerable flesh, and the perfect, frictionless glide of her fist on my cock.
IT WAS A NEVERENDING SENSATION AND I CAME. It crashed into me without the usual rising tide, a sudden, violent detonation. My back arched clean off the bed, a raw, guttural shout tearing from my throat as I spurted over her fist, my stomach, my own chest in hot, pulsing ropes.
She didn’t stop. She milked me through it, her strokes gentling but persistent, squeezing out every last drop until I was whimpering, oversensitive, shaking. AND SHE LICKED ALL CUM FROM ME. Starting at my stomach, she cleaned me with broad, cat-like laps of her tongue, swallowing earnestly. She moved to my chest, then finally took the spent, tender head of my cock into her mouth, sucking softly to gather what was left. The tenderness of it, after the sheer animal fucking of moments before, left me gutted.
She curled into my side, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. I was a shell, completely emptied. The room smelled of sex and sweat and us.
“Your body is beautiful,” she said quietly, her hand resting on my pounding heart. “Never be ashamed of what it needs, or what it gives.”
The tenderness was a hook in my chest, sharper than any command. I turned my face into her hair, breathing her in, and let the confusing, glorious wreck of it all swallow me whole. The daylight was everywhere now, exposing everything. There was no hiding here. Not anymore.