Rate a Date by Monica Murphy Page 0,46
raunchy.”
She turns to look at me, her eyes big and full of concern. “Really? I mean, I was sort of a tramp last night. Do people still say that word? Well, I was. I let you go down on me on the pool table, Mitch.” More blushing. This girl is going to turn as red as a tomato if she keeps it up. “And then I licked your dick like it was my favorite dessert.”
“Pretty hot evening, if you ask me.” I lean in and kiss her, and she rears back, surprise written all over her face.
“You taste like mint.” She frowns. “Do you wake up like that?”
Why do I find this woman so amusing? “I brushed my teeth with my finger and the toothpaste I saw in there.”
She immediately covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m sure my breath is awful.”
“There is nothing awful about you.” I pry her hand away from her face and kiss her lightly. “Don’t give yourself a complex.”
“I’m just…” She leans her forehead against mine and closes her eyes, inhaling slowly. “Not used to this sort of thing.”
“Waking up with a stud?” I’m teasing, and she laughs, which is what I was aiming for.
“Definitely not used to that. But I’m also not used to meeting someone and letting loose so quickly with him.” She opens her eyes, her gaze locking onto mine. “You make me forget all about my inhibitions.”
“Isn’t that great? I fucking love it.” I pull away from her and grab hold of her waist, my fingers tickling. She tries to get away from me, but there’s no use. I am everywhere. “You never mentioned you were ticklish.”
“You never asked.” She bats my hands away, her giggling taking over, as per usual. “Stop.”
I don’t stop. It’s fun, torturing her. Plus she’s giving me a bird’s-eye view of her jiggling tits, and every time those legs of hers move, I swear I catch a glimpse of her pussy.
This naked tickling thing is a stellar idea.
When she’s finally giggled herself into exhaustion and I’ve looked my fill, I stop tickling her and start kissing her neck instead. I let my mouth wander all over her body, squeezing her breasts together before I suck one nipple into my mouth, then the other. I lick the underside of one perfectly plump tit, then draw a damp path along her trembling stomach, around her bellybutton.
“Are you really going to do this again?” she asks, her voice hopeful.
“Why? You don’t want me to?” I pull away and the look of pure frustration on her pretty face is a sight to see.
“I want you to.” She doesn’t even hesitate. “Please.”
Ah, that prim little please is what sets me over the edge.
I decide to make it extra dirty.
She offers up weak protests at first. If she said no, I’d stop, but she’s not saying no. After a while, she starts encouraging me. I’m sticking fingers into spots I can tell she normally doesn’t deal with, but I sort of don’t care. I want to make her come. Multiple times. I like how loud she is. And squirmy. The woman never stops moving. And once I start going down on her, she rubs that pretty pussy all over my mouth, shamelessly seeking her orgasm and not caring in the least what she looks or sounds like.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
Once I’ve made her come twice and she’s a trembling, incoherent mess, I guide her into the shower, then decide to join her. We soap each other up and she gives me a hand job with the slick body wash. It foams up pretty nicely, and it smells good too.
After she finishes me off and I’ve come all over her hand, I press her against the cool marble tile and finger her into yet another climax. When we’re done, we towel each other off, my cock in a perpetual hardened state, and at one point, she drops the towel on top of it, laughing when it just hangs there.
I’m so glad I can entertain her.
After we get dressed—me in my clothes from last night, sans my boxer briefs—and she’s slicking her wet hair into a bun on top of her head, we turn to face each other.
It feels like a moment of truth.
“I’d love to grab lunch with you, but afterwards, I have to go meet up with my friends.” She winces, like she knows she’s letting me down.
I realize quick she is letting me down. And I am let