Petted and spoiled

It's usually me that tends to pet and spoil Kittyboy (and you would too if you had access to this man's back - something about the way his spine curves from ass to neck screams to be kissed and I quite happily oblige), but last night he turned the tables on me, running his hands over my skin and my face and just showering the back of my neck and shoulders with kisses and those sharp little bites that hurt like a bitch and turn me on like nothing else (and at least one left enough of a bruise for me to still feel it today). By the time he slid his fingers between my legs and pressed them deep inside me my nerves were already singing, and I remember how it felt having the curve of his mouth caught in mine, his fingers churning an orgasm out of me, hanging on to the back of his neck and shoulders and whimpering my pleasure into his mouth.

In other news, gah, summertime. I have a feeling when we move, Kittyboy and I will be investing in some box fans, because neither of us particularly like the gross sweaty aftermath of sex in 75+ degree weather. On the other hand, ice?