silky hair.
“You want to know what scares me?” I swallow hard, my throat tight. “You walking out on me again.”
Her eyes crinkle at the edges, hinting at a soft smile. “I’m not doing that.”
“Make sure you don’t. Ever.”
She shakes her head and pulls me in, thus ends the talking portion of the evening.
In my defense, I try to take it slow for her. My intention is to start out with one of those slow, gliding kisses, easing my way into her slick mouth with a few nuzzles and taking it from there. But her lips. They’re so fucking plump and delicious. And her voluptuous tongue is already easing its way into my mouth. Just to really make my brain explode, she hits me with a sweet little coo, one of those helpless sounds of female encouragement that can fell a man faster than an elephant tranquilizer dart.
With that, rational thought leaves the building.
I groan and tighten my grip on her head, roughly tipping it back the way I need it, because I’m dying here. Dying. I kiss her deeper. Harder. Cry out with shock and pleasure when she nips me. Nip her back and laugh when she laughs. Catch her mouth again because I can’t stand to let it go. Reach under her hair for her zipper. Stop because she’s got a lot of hair.
“Turn around,” I say, spinning her by the waist. Then she helps me shift all that hair over one shoulder, and I yank that zipper down to reveal her pale back with its dusting of coppery freckles, the band of her nude strapless bra and—be still my heart—the nude lace of her thong. I can’t get that dress off her fast enough, especially when she helpfully pulls her arms free, bends and wiggles that ass in my face.
I can take a lot of things. Ass wiggling is not one of them.
I’m all over her, massaging and kissing my way down her back as that dress falls to the floor and she kicks it aside. And what do you do with a juicy peach of an ass like this? You stroke it. You squeeze it as you ease those unwanted panties down her legs and out of your way. You bite it.
If her squealing and squirming are any indication, she likes that. A lot. So I slide my fingers down and stroke the insides of her thighs. Then I stroke that hot pussy from front to back and lick her juices off my fingers.
Mmmm. Delicious. Fresh oysters and womanly musk. Nirvana.
Just as I’m about to turn her around, back her onto the bed and settle one of her legs on my shoulder so I can have a good, long taste and hopefully also work her into a frenzy, she surprises me by turning to face me, a determined light in her eyes.
Oh, shit.
Goosebumps erupt all over me, race their way up my spine and collect at the nape of my neck.
“You know what I want?” she says huskily, staring me in the face as she rubs her hands down my belly and scrapes her nails back up, over my pecs. Down. Up. “I want to drive you out of your fucking mind.”
Shaky laugh from me. “Mission accomplished, sweetheart.”
“Not quite,” she says, nimbly dropping to her knees in front of me.
This woman eases my boxers down my legs and off. Then she takes me deep inside the relentless suction of her mouth and, I’m telling you, it’s game over. The visuals undo me as much as the sensations. The way her slick tongue rubs and works me. The way her cheeks suck in around me. The way those plump lips pucker around my head. The humming vibration from her victorious laugh as I moan her name and cup her head. The occasional flash of her eyes as she watches me and misses nothing.
Her glistening pink tongue. Her tongue. Her tongue.
The way it licks me from bottom to top, up one side and down the other. The way it circles my head, over and over again. The way it licks her lips as she stares up at me, confident in her skills and her ability to reduce me to a mindless hulk ruled by his rock-hard dick and surging hormones.
At some point, an existential crisis kicks in. I don’t want the sweet torture to stop, for obvious reasons. On the other hand, her tender pussy needs some attention and I still don’t know what color her nipples are.
And I