We laid in bed watching tv last night.  I rested my head on Rick's chest, inhaling the fresh soap and cologne on his just washed skin.  My fingers traced circles on his torso and softly twisted the hair between my fingers.  He squeezed me close to him, and I noticed movement from his boxers.  What is it about a penis coming to life that is so amazingly hot?  My heart beat quickened, as I pretended not to notice.  I continued to stroke his chest with my finger tips, and rubbed myself closer to him, seeing what actions brought on greater movements from down below.  It was quite an exciting game!  He leaned down to kiss me, and then decided to torture me with a tickle game.

  I hate to be tickled.  Yes, I laugh, because it tickles!  But I HATE it!  I hate the feeling of having absolutely no control over my body.  Of my muscles going limp, making me unable to defend myself.  Of the empty, silent laugh, due to not being able to breathe or catch my breath.  Its torture, but he just thinks its hilarious, and doesn't understand how I can be laughing hysterically one minute and be pissed the next.  Tickling is evil.  But I digress.

The tickling turned into playful wrestling, and I ended up pinning his arms down and sitting on top of him, mostly to protect myself from anymore possible tickle attacks.  I felt his dick moving underneath me, and leaned down to kiss him.  He kissed rather roughly, and bit my bottom lip quite hard.  The pain only seemed to add to the pleasure though, and soon his hands were free, kneading my breasts and pulling them down to his mouth where he teased them with his tongue before grazing them with his teeth.    He grew harder still beneath me.  I started to climb off and he quickly moved his knee to my crotch.  The hardness and the pressure was intoxicating, and I began to grind my pussy against him, being met with movement of his own.  I came almost instantly. 

Dismounting his knee, I reached down and pulled his dick out through the fly of his boxers and began circling the head with my tongue before plunging it deep into my mouth.  I built up a quick movement, thouroughly wetting his shaft.  I felt Rick moving my hair aside so he could watch me.  I slowed my movement, making sure he saw the complete length coming in and out of my mouth, along with my tongue, licking and lapping at him.  He made approving noises, some moans and sighs and a few "Oh fuck yeah.  Mmm  That feels so fucking good."  Those words only encourage me.  ;0) 

With his shaft fully soaked with my spit, and my hand assisting, I picked up speed, fucking his cock with my mouth.  I felt his balls tighten and pull up close to his body, as his dick grew that extra degree of hardness just before coming.  As he came, I made sure he could see himself exploding on my tongue.  He watched as much as he could before his eyes squeezed shut and the last spurt left him.  I kissed the tip of his dick before coming up and again resting my head on his chest, enjoying the scent of fresh soap and colonge and the faint new smell of sex. 

Its funny how certain words trigger weird things to pop in your head.  When I typed 'dismounting', I immediatly thought of this funny clip from a commercial I saw last night for that new show on NBC, 'Father of the Pride'.  The lion voiced by John Goodman is talking to what I guess is his wife and says, "It may be 9 o'clock in New York, but its mountin' time here."  lol  Get it?  Mountain time?  Mounting time?  Ha!  Okay, Rick thought it was stupid too, but damn it, I laughed!