Why women fuck better (erotic prose)

 
She came up behind me as I was taking off my makeup, and wrapped her arms around my waist.
 
“Vienes al cama, Amor?”
Are you coming to bed, love?
 
I smiled and closed my eyes. She didn’t initiate often, but fuck.
 
Just fuck.
 
When she did.
 
Somehow it was hotter when she did.
 
She was 5’2”, and everything I’m not. She had these beautiful curves, a softness to her, breasts that you could lose yourself in. Her hair was darker than mine and fell to her ass, and we had the same color eyes.
 
I have a type. I like women. All women.  
 
But, mmmm I like petite curvy brunettes. Latinas. They’re fucking crazy.
 
Val was from Mexico, and when she came, she cussed in Spanish too rapid for me to understand.  
 
But sex starts way before you make it to the bed. So we started the moment she asked if I was coming to bed.  

I pushed my ass against her stomach and continued moisturizing, feigning disinterest.  
 
“Un momento…”
In a minute.
 
The game began.
 
She tentatively touched my flat stomach under my tank top. I shivered.
 
The hesitancy. The shyness. After all of it, everything between us in nearly a year, that little bit of vulnerability still was an aphrodisiac. For some reason, this exquisite creature was still insecure with me, and that made me feel like a caveman.
 
No, like a cavewoman.
 
Her dark skin contrasted with the weird pale/dark tan lines I had. She was this rich cafe Americano color from head to toe, and I have strange matrixes of tanned skin from running. I loved the way our stomachs looked together. Mine luminous, hers dark. We were shadow and sun in bed.  
 
I would have played it cool with a guy. But she was a dandelion in summer, something who could blow away in a single careless breath. I knew this.
 
I always knew this.
 
Something that tender, that tentative needs to be nurtured. So I rinsed my face, asked for a towel and then dropped the towel on the floor, turned, and took her cheeks in my hands.
 
I looked at every inch of her face, before I kissed her.
 
Seeing a woman is foreplay. Really seeing a woman.
 
We live such invisible lives.
 
Her arms were still around my back and I cupped her cheeks and took my time exploring her lips, her mouth, the way her skin felt under my hands, the small sound she made in the back of her throat.
 
We had all night. Fuck tomorrow.
 
I sucked on her lower lip and slipped one hand under her shirt, dragging my nails lightly down her back.
 
She gasped, and pushed her pussy, hiding behind cotton panties, against me.
 
Fuck.
 
That moment of relinquishment. When you know.  
 
You can feel the muscles go lax, the submission to desire. The absolute “we are fucking tonight” body language.  
 
I’ve been the giver and recipient, and I honestly don’t know which is more satisfying. To feel the moment when you fully give yourself to someone… or the moment you receive that.
 
Tonight. Feeling her relax against me. To sigh into my mouth. My god, it made my knees wobble with need.  
 
I could feel the wetness on tops of my inner thighs as I reacted to her.
 
My nails are short because I type all day, but hers are long as fuck, and she pushed against me, finding her goddess, grinding hard on my leg, nails raking under my shoulder blades and down the sides of my back.
 
I gently bit her earlobe, and worked a thigh between her legs and started whispering.
 
She was blushingly-hesitant about talking dirty.  She'd get shy. God it made me insane. She’d start off in English and then whisper ‘yes’ in Spanish like she was scared I’d hear her.
 
Do you want me to tell you what I want to do to you?
 
Yes..
 
I want to kiss every inch of your body. Do you want that?
 
si
 
Baby, I want to feel you come...
 
si
 
I love your body, I want to feel you …
 
si
 
I flipped us around so she had her back to the sink and I slowly undressed her, kissing each part as it was exposed. She didn’t like it rough most of the time, so I kissed her again as my hands traced up her sides to under her breasts, until I was lightly stroking the underside.
 
My head dipped down and I licked one nipple, then the other, just a teensy flick of the tongue, so that the air would cool the hard nubs. She was a large C and her cleavage was a thing of wonder and beauty.
 
I told her so.
 
She closed her eyes and let her hair fall back, the ends getting damp in the sink.
 
That was her biggest turn on. Hearing that I loved her body.
 
I told her how I loved the way her skin felt against mine. The way she smelled like a woman.
 
Her gardenia body wash nestled next to mine in the shower, and together we were a dark garden in paradise.
 
I pulled off my tank top and shorts and pressed my skin to hers, digging my fingers through her scalp and kissing her rougher. She went right for my pussy, pushing one finger inside me, her long nail lightly scraping, as I slowly explored her sides with my fingertips.
 

“Do you feel how wet I am? You made me this wet”
 
si

 
I grabbed her ass and bit her shoulder, hard.  
 
She cried out and I pulled back, and took her wrist. I pulled her finger out of me, and put it in my mouth.
 
"I taste good."  
si
 
I wanted her.
 
I wanted her to come.  I wanted to come with her.
 
"Let's go to bed."  
 
I pushed her on the bed, every light on, and pulled out some warming oil. I drizzled it over her naked pussy, and then rubbed it in casually. I repeated the same for myself as she watched from half-closed eyes.
 
Her hands were at her sides. Her shyness creeping back. My long body brushing against her curvy body.
 
“You. Are. A. Fucking. Goddess.”
 
I took my oiled hands and moved them up her body, until I was massaging her breasts, lightly pinching and squeezing her nipples while our pussies pushed against each other.
 
I tilted my pelvis sideways so that our clits were grinding into each other at a 45 degree angle, lifted her legs slightly, and wound my fingers through hers, not pinning her down, but joining her in the helplessness of release.
 
And we worked each other. Kissing slow, grinding hard, keeping the pressure on, and fucking against each other. I had the first orgasm.
 
It emboldened her.
 
Val turned into a monster once she knew.
 
She grabbed my trembling shoulders, and pushed my body up, as I tried to collapse into her softness, and mashed her clit against me like I was a pillow to be humped, whispering her rapid fire accented Spanish at me.
 
I moaned her name and pushed onto her harder, legs shaking, nipples throbbing, pussy clamping so hard that I nearly sucked her labia in me. She got louder, grabbed my nipples with her thumb and forefingers and cussed me three ways to Sunday as she fucked up, fucked hard, and pushed me over a second edge.
 
She came loudly and I rolled off her immediately, making her shriek as I interrupted her climax. I moved down and picked up her orgasm with my tongue, the tang of her desire biting, and intoxicating. She was wet. Slick. and I kept firm, flat pressure on her clit as I pushed two fingers inside her.
 
I flipped my hand palm up, and made a ‘come here” gesture, until I found her g-spot. That flat little rough spot inside the inner wall at the top of her pussy, and worked her inside and out until she fell over the edge I’d left her on.
 
My jaw was nearly locked up, as she flooded my hand, filled my mouth, moaned my name and every cuss word known in two languages. Her thick thighs fell out as she quivered against me, and I counted every fucking time her walls clenched on my fingers.
 
God I was ready again.
 
I reached down, not stopping my flat-tongued work on her clit,  riding her through every wave, and fucked myself on my hand, still wet with her, until we both came again.
 
I pushed back up her body, wet. Slick. Smelling like pussy.
 
Something about a good orgasm makes women powerful again. And she took her power. Rolled us over, licking herself off my face and whispering platitudes in broken English.
 
God I was ready again.
 
She knew it.
 
We rolled side to side, facing each other, and I threw my leg over her waist. We were working in tandem, each reaching in with a free hand to finger fuck the other as hard and fast as possible to the next orgasm, all semblance of softness faded away as we made mouth-open, porn-star eye contact to the next one. Then the next.
 
We took a break after about an hour, laughed about our PH, got water and had some dates and cheese and fed each other little bites sitting on the kitchen counter, laughing, flirting, touching, and telling each other little intimate things about the day, about our bodies, about fucking, until we were just hungry for each other again.
 
This time, we went slow.  
 
I used a small vibe between us both until we both orgasmed before I went down on her again.  
 
This time, I licked up her slit, and pushed my tongue in her as I pressed the palm of my hand on her clit, teasing her super sensitive nub with the vibe ever few seconds, as I laved her slick folds until she couldn’t do more than moan. Every couple of minutes, I'd nuzzle against a soft brown thigh, and bite hard enough to make her tap my shoulders.  
 
She returned the favor in spades, and I was absolutely lost beneath her plush lips, her soft hands, the way her hair felt in my hands, and the smoothness of her cheeks between my thighs. It wasn’t a harsh orgasm, it was just riding a soft wave of chronic bliss.
 
We finished and cleaned up, went giggling to the kitchen again  as if we were girls having a sleepover rather than lovers who spent the night fucking, and we gossiped about nothing. Both of us silly and flirty in the post-o glow.
 
We pulled on each other's shirts - she always stretched my shirts out, but I didn’t mind. They make more shirts.
 
And we fell asleep facing each other, complimenting each other’s hair, and murmuring ridiculous shit as our breaths grew longer, our hands still smelling of sex linked between us.