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Posted by on Aug 16, 2015 in News | 0 comments

Erotic Fiction: Cured By Cunnilingus

Cunnilingus

In this erotic fiction, the only cure for stammering is cunnilingus.

My ex-husband used to say I wanted to save the world. He laughed at me, called me a “do-gooder” because I believed that people could be helped with a little understanding and patience. He was a cynic—that was our trouble, I guess. I mention this because he would be very amused at this fantasy. It would reinforce all the feelings he had about me; come to think of it, I suppose he had a point! You see, in my fantasy, my vagina has magical powers. Not just the usual, sexual powers, but truly amazing ones. I can heal people with it! They only have to touch the part of them that is in pain to my magic box, and they are healed forever.

Naturally, not many people know about my powers or they’d be beating down my door. I can’t be too generous with this astounding talent, or it may be taken away from me. I help as many people as I can, though—I have a list of clients who refer me to others. I receive my patients one day a week. I wear no underpants at these audiences, and have on a kind of satin jumpsuit that unbuttons at the crotch so that I can reveal my magic at the proper time. To make things easier, I recline on a velvet couch with a pillow under my pelvis.

Usually the people just approach, touch me reverently, and are cured. Sometimes it’s kind of complicated, like with the athlete who has tennis elbow, but generally I manage very easily and they go away happy and grateful, with a new lease on life. I never become personally involved.

One day a beautiful young man is brought before me. He is lean and tall, with lovely black curly hair. He is naked, like all my clients, and I can’t for the life of me tell what’s wrong with him. The longer I stare at his gorgeous body, with its big, beautifully shaped cock springing from a mass of jet black pubic hair, the more uncomfortable I become. My thighs are sort of squeezing together and I can feel a pulse in my breasts hammering away. I’m getting turned on, and that’s not supposed to happen. When he opens his mouth to tell me his trouble, he blushes right down to the root of his penis. “Don’t be shy,” I say coaxingly, and finally, haltingly, he explains what his problem is.

He stammers. Clearly, there is only one remedy for him. I explain that he must put his tongue to me, and I unbutton the little square of material and peel it back so he can approach the shrine. My pubic hair is freshly washed and perfumed; it is close-cropped and sparkles with glitter. Reverently, he kneels before me and places his hands on my thighs. I spread them open and bury my fingers in his glossy hair, guiding him to me with infinite gentleness. I can feel his warm breath on my thighs and then—like a little dart of flame—his tongue on my clitoris.

He keeps it there for a moment, and then begins tentatively to lick in tiny little circles. I sigh, arching up to him and abandoning myself to delicious, forbidden sensations. His tongue is warm and heavenly; my clit is swollen like a little sword and tingling with excitement, but he stops suddenly and stammers out that it’s not working. I suggest in a strangled voice that he must insert the tongue further, and he buries his head back between my thighs and burrows in, tracing ecstasy everywhere and searching out each nerve ending so that I am frantic with pleasure. I seize his cock and slide my fingers up and down, massaging and twisting my fingernails over the tip, urging him onward to a might erection.

His tongue becomes stiff and powerful, gliding up into me, prodding and stabbing and laving every inner inch of me until I am on the brink of orgasm and half-crazy with excitement. “Further! Further!” I shout, and then—just when it seems he can’t possibly penetrate another inch—he gives a mighty lunge so that his tongue is completely inside of me and vibrating powerfully. My hands have a will of their own and I am pumping him on to orgasm—I can feel the scalding hot spray of him as he comes in my hands, and this excites me even more. I arch my body up, higher, higher … his tongue is slamming into me now and I begin to come like I’ve never came before. I am screaming and thrashing around, wild with ecstasy, and at the peak of my climax he shouts, “I’M CURED!” and the words reverberate and echo inside of me like thunder.

The post Erotic Fiction: Cured By Cunnilingus appeared first on Filthy Gorgeous Media.

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