A different angle

"Intersect in a point." His hands stopped at the bend of her thighs, his thumbs below, his fingers above, framing her dark brown triangle with his hands. "A vertex." He grinned, slipping his finger through the center of her, making her shiver. "This, right here… this is the vertex… do you feel that." His finger moved gently over her clit, sending an immediate rush of blood there.

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes closing for a moment.

"So the angle is this circular span between the two lines." He rubbed his hand over the futon beneath her. She propped herself on her elbows, looking down at the cushioned surface, her head cocked. "This is a 90 degree angle." He arranged her legs just so. "With a third side, this is a right triangle. An angle, if it's less than 90 degrees, is an acute angle." He slid her legs nearly closed by the ankles. "And I have to admit, this angle is pretty damned cute." He looked fondly at how her lips pressed together in a sweet little pout. She was giggling, now.

"An angle larger than 90 degrees, now… that's an obtuse angle." He pressed her legs open, out, out, wider. She gasped, wiggling, until finally she cried, "Ow, ow, ow, ok I got it, stop!"

"Good girl." He smiled. "Now…you can understand Pythagorean's theorem…"

She shook her head, already pouting. "David, no. There's no way. I try and I try, but I just don't get it." She turned onto her belly and moving to get off the futon. "I think I'm just mathematically challenged."

David watched her moodily cross the room, leaning back, a small smile playing at his lips. He started unbuckling his belt. Her head snapped toward him immediately. She heard that sound in her dreams sometimes, followed by the slow click of his zipper, the push of material, and-oh, yes, the freeing of his cock-which always made her ache with longing. She settled cross-armed against his dresser, and she knew he could see her reflected in the mirror, her bum propped on the edge. The sight of her leaning there made him visibly harder, and he reached down and tilted his cock toward her, an offering.

She smiled, biting her lip, and slipped to her knees. She was crawling toward him, grinning, unable to resist, and he knew it. She settled herself between his legs, watching his hand move steadily over his cock. He looked at her through half closed eyes, reaching his other hand to cup and fondle her breast, pulling gently at her nipple and making her sigh softly and arch her back.

She loved watching him, feeling the motion and urgency of him touching himself.

She leaned in to kiss the tip and he grabbed her head and pressed, seeking her throat, finding it. She gagged a little and he growled at the sound, easing up somewhat. It served to do little but make her more hungry for him, and she knelt above him to prop herself at a better angle to take him more deeply into her mouth.

He pulled her bottom around so he could spread her open with his fingers as she sucked him. She moaned, edging closer, and she knew that he was waiting, even though he must know how much she wanted his mouth, his tongue.

He waited, exploring from the edges to the center of her, letting his finger disappear slowly in and out. She wiggled and pressed back again, moaning around his cock. "Harder," she begged. He gave her another finger, picked up the pace, and she moaned louder, "Ohhh David, yessss!"

He worked her faster, deeper, his fingers making a soft squelching sound against her flesh. She slid closer still, her whole demeanor begging for his tongue. Her mouth slowed on him, although her hand didn't.

"Will you lick me?" She glanced back at him.

"Will you let me fuck you?"

She groaned, pressing her forehead to his thigh, shaking her head. "I can't."

"God, Catherine, you have the most beautiful little pussy." His fingers moved deeper still, his thumb finding her aching clit. She shuddered. "I want you so much. I promise I won't hurt you."

"I can't, I can't," she whispered, starting to disengage, moving away. His hands on her hips stopped her, pulling her back and centering her over him.

"I want to be inside of you."

She whimpered. His fingers petted her, spreading her wetness, which was considerable, everywhere. "You love my fingers inside you… imagine how it would feel to have my prick here." Her hand tightened on him at the thought and he moaned.

"David, please," she begged.

"Ok." He sighed. "I'll tell you what."

"What?"

His tongue found her then, expertly teasing her clit, and she sighed, and then started making soft little cries as he wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her closer. She started moving against him, whispering, "Yes, yes," again and again. She could feel it beginning to tighten, like something deeply coiled within her, edging closer to being unsprung.

"Please!" She was begging him now, his stiff cock in her hand all but forgotten.