Sometimes, you stumble on something rather good.

I bent and bit into his chest, in a circle just around the boundary line of the areola. He made the kind of encouraging moan that could only interpreted as keep doing that, and harder. I’d have asked, “Are you serious?” but my mouth was occupied. While I already felt like I was gnawing the crust from a loaf of bread, his noises became louder and more furtive when I dug my teeth into his skin as firmly as I dared.

And sometimes you dare yourself more than you dare others.

Whatever I was doing (nothing more than hanging on for dear life) worked because he started swinging backwards and forwards, pushing his pelvis against mine with more determination and inadvertently adding a pulling effect to the grip on his nipple. He loved it. I hung on with my teeth and enjoyed the ride, trying to vary the grip sites in case I was breaking his skin.

Nicely done.