... and lower again.
You breathe out heavily, your body releasing from a tension you feel only as it leaves you aching, as the kiss lowers down you again. Its warm, tingling touch parts your lips all the way until it dips ever so slightly into your opening, making your breath catch again. Then it rises, your breath groaning out of you as it slides up again, your strained voice shuddering as it nears, closer... and falls again.
"GNAAHAA-" you half groan, half wail. The feeling of it dragging its kiss down your lips, dipping into you, then up, up, up... only to NOT touch you, is, it's - it isn't fair!
The tendrils suck your nipples again, bringing a startled moan out of your involuntarily smiling mouth, momentarily caught in the lingering pleasure as the leaves cup and squeeze your breasts into another satisfying suck. But your smile quickly falls, the sharp pulses of pleasure only illuminating the building agony in your hips. The wet kiss slides patiently up... and down, up... and down, drawing your entire focus with it as you feel all too keenly how close its comes every time, so close, so....
FUCK WHY ISN'T IT DOING IT PROPERLY! You remember with a flood of fondness the feeling of a previous lover, a shockingly adept neo-goth named Lily. Her white hair set off the electric purple of her eyes, smiling up at you from between your legs as her tongue traced sweeping bliss up and down you, much like now. But unlike now, Lily knew just how to flick her tongue up at the end, darting shockingly over your clit, sliding down again and flicking to catch the top of your opening, leaving you shaking all the way back up until you were literally begging for more! And smiling Lily was only too happy to oblige.
But THIS tongue! If it even is a tongue - it doesn't flick at the ends, something you feel with painful disappointment now as you remember Lily. No this tongue feels much rounder, almost like the bulb of a tulip, fitting you perfectly as it dips just inside you, its very end feeling more intensely textured as it rises up between your lips to kiss just shy of your clit. You crane your head to the side, trying in vain to look beneath you - but there is only the flushed pink surface of the petals that hold you. What even is this maddening thing?
As if to confuse you more, a sudden change makes you gasp, and your hands grab onto the tendrils on your nipples for support and making them suck you stronger in reaction, leaving you doubled over panting. Your hips are still shaking in the aftershocks of the sudden movement, the feeling of that textured end suddenly flaring out, spreading its intense touch to reach the sides of your lips. And from there it traces down you again, a different, somehow less satisfying pleasure as it slides down the sensitive grooves between your inner and outer labia, pressing in either side of your opening and spreading you ever so slightly. Then they rise again, up towards your clit, higher, higher, higher than before your body tensing and shaking as you feel them rise past your clit. Past, their touch sliding up on either side of your clit without touching it!
You bare your teeth, hands clenching down on the slick tendrils - "MOTHERF-" but your curse is cut short as the tendrils react by sucking your nipples with equal force, the pleasure so intense and sharp it almost feels like pain, but sending a shockwave of pleasure filing your breasts and shaking lungs. And your breath continues to shake as you feel the twin touches spread your lips a little further open, exposing the emptiness inside to the insubstantial air, before rising up and sliding higher, higher, ever so lightly touching as they past your clit, enough to move the skin around it and make you gasp in joy, then grit your teeth in frustration.
Without even thinking you reach inwards with both hands, your sensitive palms pushed firmly against your stomach as you try to reach inside the bulb. As if to oblige the petals holding your waist shift, unfurling ever so slightly, loosing their hold to let your hands in.
You hesitate. A sudden stillness surrounds your realization. You were nearly able to escape before, when you stood up sharply before the petals could tighten. And now they've loosened again. Your legs tense slightly, testing your footing. Your hands stay holding your stomach, ready to thrust down your waist and bring yourself sweet release. But then what's to stop it tightening again, leaving your hands trapped inside with your achingly hollow groin? Fuck, but you're desperate!
You shudder as the tendrils suck and cup your breasts again, only realizing now that they had stopped. The touches on your vulva had stopped too, hovering either side of your clit, where they start to move, sliding just a little up and down, sliding your own skin up and down over your clit in an intense half-feeling that leaves your hips shaking and bucking madly.
"OH FUCK YOU!" you angrily thrust one hand inside the petals, which instantly tighten over it.
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