When my girlfriend finished her snack, she sat back on her heels cleaning her mouth from the saliva.
She looked at me like a sorry puppy and tried to explain: “I don’t know what happened. I just ... like ... felt it. I felt like I couldn’t prevent me from doing it. I kept focusing on the fact that I should move out but I wanted it so much. Don’t take that badly but I am pretty convinced that never before I wanted to suck it more than today, like not even closely as much”
“How should I not take it badly? It is absolutely not kind of you to say something like that!”
“Well, I sincerely believe I have already earned my forgiveness” Her pupils jumped up and down in the general direction of my crotch twice while she grinned.

 “As you wish. Now, how do I reach you?”
“Ah, oh yep! Well, very slowly, very very slowly you should crawl on your back.”
“What? How?”
“Ehr … hold to my thighs! I will stay as firm as I can!”
At first it was not very easy to find the legs, she was too down for my hands to reach, but after she made a little movement in my direction I held the back of her knees in my grip and started pulling one tug per side. I could hear behind me parts of the building crumbling down but I dared not to watch the mess. After a good minute of work, I felt the waves under my shoulder, therefore I asked
“Can I sit now?”
My girlfriend looked down at me. From my prospective I could admire her kneeing figure from the vaginal lips to the little swelling of her belly up to the tits that framed her playful look. There was no answer, not a verbal one. She lowered without proffering any words her bottom on my face and tried to suffocate me with her crotch.
“I think, it is exactly the time to reciprocate, do you agree?”
I tried to muffle a precise protest to the irrationality of that demand in such a situation but every possible objection was immediately silenced by the grinding movements of her pelvic zone. I accepted my fate and started licking at the best of my possibility. At least my arms where free and I could grip to her ass cheeks to help me with the task. The problem with my girlfriend when it comes to cunnilingus is that she is never satisfied by the jest in itself. She doesn’t want her pussy licked or suckled upon. “It just amount to the physiological stimulation! I don’t want oral sex for a physiological stimulation. I want it because I feel it bring me to the place I belong. On top!” she recounted me in various occasions. She can’t hold from moving her hips to the sides, then in- and forward while trying not to interrupt the mouth-pelvis connection. She actively used to press my head as much as she could in whatever surface we were lying upon. I never knew if she wanted to crush it or swallow it. She never dissolved the doubt, every time I raised the issue. In the aftermath she limited to stare at my questioning with a pondering smile. That time her behavior was no less dominant. She started her hip dance, began to press further and further my head into the soft sand below and kept pressing as hard as she could my head between her thighs.
I, by my side, was still sincerely worried for the general situation. The only relief was that I was finally a little far away from the devastated buildings and their comprehensibly frightened inhabitants. But I could not think of them very much because her demanding body kept injecting in me the sexual imperative of digging and caressing her clit. I wanted to do my best, but then something strange started to happen. While I was enjoying my … well … “moment” before, I was still completely aware of myself and my situation. I could think, not that straight I admit, but still think at the city and the people and I could wonder the (im-)possible explanations for what was happening.
Now that I was so close to her vagina I could smell the scent and even savor the taste of her fluids. Anytime before, I could indeed smell something, taste some generic saltiness, but that was it. Most of the experience came from the joy I could imagine in my partner and the physical response of her body expressed through spasm or the aforementioned rhythmic grinding. Now, all the experience had a totally different display. I felt myself slowly descending into a semi-feral state partly driven from some kind of non-nutritional hunger and partly from a general muscle relaxation. I felt like my body was gradually deprived of vital force which was transferred through my veins and nerves to my tongue and lips. I was becoming a personalized cunnilingus-apparatus. In a sort of way I was contributing to this transformation by keeping on my pace of licking and suckling and licking again, accompanying the movements of the thighs around my head. But, at the same time, I felt like it was just happening not because of me but by the mean of my body and my dissipating consciousness. I didn’t knew if it was that that happened before to her and my penis, but in that moment I could understand a little better what she called “the need”.

And then it came to me as clear as the sun. That, all of that must have been a dream. How could I not realize it before. Total displacement of space (well, of course in the form of disproportion of size), unexplained and out of the blue sexual intercourse, fading consciousness. A dream, now turned lucid. I became a little sad, because every time before I turned a dream lucid it dissolved almost immediately. But this one was stronger. I wandered if I had improved unconsciously my capacities or if it was the effect of something strange I ate or drank. Now, if you find yourself into a strange but extremely satisfying dream, you became lucid and the stuff didn’t fade, the best thing you could do was keep going, experimenting at the best. But not me, not this dummy! I was literally having the best time of my life and still the fact of being right seemed to matter the most. I wanted to prove it.

I tried to pinch myself. But I couldn’t. My grinding moaning sweating and ever more tasty juices-excreting machine of a girlfriend occupied not only all of my field of vision but, by keeping her legs spread on the side of my head and her feet deeply planted under my armpits, the only place I could reach was the side of my chest. Not enough skin. Maybe, not enough strength either. The only thing I could grasp firmly was her ass, and so did I. I pinched her left cheek as hard as I could. Now, only to be clear, I never was and keep not being that much into bdsm stuff (not even the soft-core one). She, also, never before asked me nothing in that direction. Anyway, I think it is also this way people discover what they like. The pinch didn’t bother her. It struck her while she was panting and moaning with her eyes closed. She almost coughed out a sort of “ah-haa … !” contextually opening her eyes at the widest looking up at the sky. She pressed her whole body on my mouth as hardly as she could and started moving faster and more chaotic. The sudden change almost dislocated my jaw, but luckily I resisted the impact. She could no more limit herself to whisper her moans, she started stating them out and loud like some sort of vindication speech to the inscrutable deities of feminine orgasm. She also tried to articulate some language. “Dieeh-he-he, dwoo-hwit! Douhhith a-ha-ga. Dooh eet ag-ain. Do it again pweeese!”

I was baffled. Was it a dream or not? If it was a dream on what fantasy did it rely on? Mine of hers? I thought something like “Hey you, subconscious, what side are you on in this?”. “Dew-iit, hardaaa, deeweet!” I was too confused to resist the orders of my topological superior. I pinched the other cheek with my hand, and this time I didn’t let go immediately. I hanged and pushed with my fingers. She emitted something between a syncopated laughter and a confusionary gurgle. “Gghhyya – hha – aaaaw!” She curved her back and reached the ground with the hands. Then she started the final movement of her grand ballet of the clitoris. She also grabbed my side and tightened her grip. It hurt, a lot. That was definitely not a dream, at least not a normal one. It didn’t matter at the moment. I was no more in complete control. My tongue kept reaching for the vulva and the small treasure hidden between the labia. I held myself to her bottom and licked in the attempt to consume my tongue completely onto her skin. She kept alternating subtle moans and little gasping eruptions at a faster and faster pace. This contributed to make part of my blood rush back to the forgotten parts between my legs. I kept pushing with my mouth. She kept pushing back with her whole pelvis. The fight was at its apex. I couldn’t keep that rhythm anymore and still I did my best. And than the whole world shattered.

It is indeed true and vastly lamented among the female world that there is a strong men-women disparity when it comes to orgasm. The most sincere among us, when they really enjoyed the act tend to accompany it with a sigh, a light cough or a little moan that testifies the effort. The most fanciful and flamboyant performers mimic feminine noises. But on this side of the barricade we comrades all know that it is an act of pure love (or annoying post-sex discussions avoidance strategy). The male orgasm is like the sudden emerging of a hidden aquifer. It pales in comparison with the female counterpart which resembles most of the times the blast of thunders. And also that time, the thunder came in the form of a sixteen years old bigger-than-life blonde roaring out all of her lust and fury. She came on my face, into my mouth, and pressed her body to shut me up. Then she stayed there, standing, dangling with a blissful smile and one eye more closed than the other.