The elevator of her hand stopped at her shaven labia. She slowly tilted her palm. I had seconds before I fell to the floor, so there was only one course of action to me. I jumped.
I latched onto the bottom knob of her clit ring. If I were heavier, I could've hurt her. As it was, my dangling there was exactly what she wanted. My very slight weight was just enough to elicit a long and (for me, at least) earth-shaking moan from her. She began to walk around, forcing me into collisions with her gigantic thighs. Each bounce I took off her legs resulted in another moan as I pulled her piercing in constantly changing directions.
To intensify the experience, her lips, shaven and therefore already little help at maintaining a grip, were starting to drip. Her smell, intoxicating; her juice, slippery. There was no way I would be able to hold on much longer. This, too, was all part of the game, because there's only one place I could go then, and it was precisely where she wanted me.
Another crash into her leg sent me straight into her labia, and I took that opportunity to hook my feet into her folds. I was now stretched tightly along her slit, safe from more bouncing, but not safe from her ever slicker surfaces and certainly not safe from being rendered drunk by her smell. I dug my feet into the entrance to her vagina.
My mistress jerked at the feeling, coming to a sudden stop and making me lose my grip on her clit ring. This would have been disastrous for me if the walls of her pussy hadn't clamped down and pulled at the same time. It was all part of the plan. By the time I was falling from my lost hold her clit, I was already thigh deep in her cunt.
And her cunt kept squeezing. Her pussy walls pulsed, sucking me inside her. I had to keep squirming in order to keep them massaging me inward and away from the danger of falling, but that was how my Mistress wanted it. That's how I wanted it. And, if the urgency of her vaginal constrictions were any indication, that's how her pussy wanted it.
Slowly, but surely, I was pulled into the cave of my Mistress until all that remained outside was my head. I kept struggling for the benefit of my Mistress, and she responded by bringing her hands down to me. The fingers of one hand pushed urgently at her clitoris, while the pole-thick fingers of the other pressed me deeper into her vagina.
It was utterly dark, overwhelmingly hot, and extremely wet. Had I never been in there before, the sense of claustrophobia would have been enough to make me faint. I was experienced, however, and I had a mission: make my Mistress orgasm. Her walls, soft but firm, giving but unforgiving, were doing their best to squeeze me back out, so I fought and battled to work my way deeper.
She clenched. I could hear her screams, even through the loud murmuring of her own body. I couldn't move, couldn't react, couldn't do anything but let her flood come over me. And when she came, the flood that came too was Biblical in proportions. I was inhaling her juice, and clamped down upon or not, my body automatically flailed about for lack of oxygen.
This, of course, made my Mistress come even harder, which could have made my situation even more dire. Instead, the strength of her orgasm became enough to shove me out of her vagina at outrageous speed. I landed in a pool of her juices on the bed. Apparently, in all the tectonic commotion, I hadn't noticed when we'd moved from vertical to horizontal.
Her shudders shook the mattress, but they were just the aftershocks. I was too tired to move, but my Mistress scooped me up and hung me in front of her giant face.
"That was great. I guess you won that game. How about a reward before the next one."
She laid me down between her breasts.
"Get some rest, little guy. You're gonna need it for game number two."
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