Fireworks

(From the novel, "Operaville")

“Now,” she says. “Don’t touch until I say so.”


She releases the straps from either shoulder and slips the dress slowly down. Her breasts are medium-sized (half a casaba), milk white, modest enough that they have retained a pleasantly round shape. Her aureolae are peach, size of a Kennedy half-dollar, her nipples pink and distinctly erect. She crosses her arms beneath them, holding her dress at waist level, then cups her hands beneath each one, offering them like gifts. I am going mad taking in visual information.

“Do you approve?”

“Bravi!”

She smiles, her face flushing.

“Then touch them.”

I run my pinkie around a nipple and then cup a breast in my palm, taking in the warmth, the spongy texture. I do the same with my left hand, then I bring her breasts toward each other and take turns sucking each nipple between my lips.

Maddie takes in a gasp of breath. “I will give you three hours to stop that. You can be rough with them, if you want.”

I squeeze a breast, then I stuff it between my lips as deeply as I can, using the suction at the back of my mouth to pull at her nipple.

“Oh Jesus!” she sings. “Oh fuck! You’re good.”

After a minute of this and other manipulations, I take a time-out to enjoy Maddie’s lips. I’m surprised to feel her hand on my crotch. I grab her hair, run a tongue into her ear and whisper, “I think it’s time for you to meet someone.”

“Yes,” she says, and kneels on the floor.

“Now, don’t touch until I say so.” I undo my belt and lower my pants. My penis is about as hard as it gets, glowing white in the faint light from outside. Maddie brings her face inches away and runs her eyes along its length. Now I know how she felt, this sense of being observed but not touched.

“My,” says Maddie. “It’s lovely.”

I am of average size, but blessed in matters of aesthetic quality. My dick looks like the one in the textbook.

“Thanks,” I say. “I got it from Mom and Dad on my birthday.”

Maddie is panting; her breath is wafting over my cock.

“May I?” she asks.

“Be my guest.”

She places a finger at the tip and runs it all the way to the base, then circles the shaft with her fingers and runs them back to the helmet.

“You can be rough with it, if you want.”

She tightens her grip and strokes downward, which feels divine. Then she leans forward and kisses the tip, pulling it slowly into her mouth like a crescendo sustenato (trust me on this) till I’m four inches gone. Then she clamps down with her lips and swirls that virtuosic tongue all the way around. Ec-stasy. Out of / body. She squeezes my balls and pulls my cock all the way in. Jesus Christ, Buddha, Krishna and the Seven Dwarfs. I am fucking the album cover.

Then I hear a gunshot, and I see colors: emerald, lavender, cherry. Maddie pulls me out and giggles. “Fireworks.”

“Should we go see them?”

“Don’t you want me to finish you off?”

“It takes me a long time to come, honey.”

“Ooh!” she says. “That could prove beneficial.”

“Smart girl. I truly hate to say this but, Unhand my penis!”

She gives my dick one last kiss and addresses it as a separate personage. “Bye, honey. See you soon.”

I try my best to tuck myself back into my boxers, and am grateful to know that it will be dark outside. Maddie has quickly reattached her bra, and is redoing her lipstick.

“Are we ready?” she asks.

“One last thing,” I say, and I give her ass a squeeze. She returns the favor, and we re-enter the civilized, fully clothed world to explosions of blue and gold.