Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 157(@250wpm)___ 131(@300wpm)
Her eyelids are beginning to sag, tits heaving. “M-maybe once or twice.”
“Mmmm.” Still looking her in the eye, I spit on her pussy, watching heat build in her expression when I lean in and tunnel my tongue into that slick valley, using my saliva to drench her, to give her friction where she needs it, on that swollen little bud that makes her gasp, her fingers spearing into my hair, her hips jerking and tilting. “What about your nipples? Did you play with those while you were thinking about me bending you in half?”
Her right hand leaves my hair, the palm sliding down over the mound of her tit, and she nearly kills me when she pinches her nipple through her shirt, leaving it hard and pointed. “A little. Mostly I thought about how much you liked sucking them.”
“Britta,” I say raggedly, delving my tongue a little rougher now, sawing it wetly over her clit, my fingers trailing up her inner thighs, so I can press my middle and index ones inside her, deep, making her whimper, a shuddering passing through her midsection. “Get them out. Let me see how bad they want to be sucked on again.”
It’s almost like her arms are too heavy to function—and I can relate. So badly. I don’t know how I’m going to get my legs to work well enough to stand up and fuck her, but this is where it’s happening. Right here against the door, come hell or high water.
God bless America and Canada alike, because she strips off her tight shirt and unsnaps her nude-colored bra, those pretty tits bouncing out, and I go for them like a hungry animal, lunging to suck those rosy nipples while she moans my name, holding my head close, my fingers pumping in and out of her drenched cunt, and I’m so hard, my zipper is going to break before I get the chance to pull it down.
I was born to fuck this girl. I require nothing else as long as I live.
“Sumner,” she says haltingly, pulling on my hair to make me look up. “I want to get on my knees for you too.”
Lust zigzags through the lowest region of my stomach, deep and sharp. A vision of Britta sucking me off pops up into my head, and I banish it immediately. Too much. “No.”
“Why not?” She slides down the door, half-naked, like some kind of mind-blowing siren, purring, “I really, really want to . . .”
I’m actually starting to shake thinking about it. “Britta, no.”
“Stand up.” Her knees hit the ground, and she starts to work on my fly. “If you take your shirt off, I’ll suck it harder.”
Maybe later I’ll be embarrassed about the hoarse grunt that comes out of me. Or the way I stagger to my feet and rip my shirt off over my head. Right now, though, I’m not. I’m just grateful to be alive. I’m also not confident whatsoever that I’ll be able to last ten seconds in her mouth without climaxing, especially after she just said the words suck it harder, so this is going to be interesting—and oh, God, it’s out, she’s stroking me in a fist, on her knees, wetting her lips, nipples all perked up.
Don’t look.
You have to look.
“Britta, I really don’t think you should . . .”
“Shhhh,” she says against the head of my cock. “Have I told you it’s beautiful?”
Christ. I can’t even name the muscles that are flexed right now.
“Ten, fifteen seconds tops, I mean it.”
“We’ll see . . .”
She takes me in her mouth in one long, slow glide, and my neck loses power, a hot, silk fist twisting in my belly, exhilaration making my scalp prickle. In the space of ten seconds, I begin panting, sweat breaking out across my forehead, collarbone, spine. Her tongue is magical, and it’s not leaving any part of my cock undiscovered. She teases my slit, rakes it down to my balls, and sucks on those as well. Kisses them, no idea they are throbbing like the devil.
But it’s when she wraps her lips around my shaft and hums, taking me back, back to her throat and holding me there, swallowing, that I know this has to stop.
She lets me go with a gasp but keeps pumping me in her fist, breathing hard.
My world tilts dramatically, my vision fuzzing at the edges.
I’m married to a goddess. I need to be inside her, as close to her as possible.
“It has been a week since I was inside you, Britta, you can’t just . . .” She takes me to her throat again, those delicate muscles flexing around me, and my balls squeeze in a level-ten warning. “Oh fuck, get up. Up, up, up.” I don’t wait for her to follow instructions, especially because she is proving more and more that she won’t. I hook my shaking hands beneath her armpits and heave her up, skipping the part where her feet touch the floor, throwing her up against the door, and then wedging myself in between her incredible thighs instead, because it’s motherfucking business time. I’m not playing around anymore.