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She stilled, loosening her hold, letting her hands fall down to my shoulders. Her beautiful blue eyes locked onto mine and I knew she was going to do it.

Slowly dragging those magic hands of hers over my shoulders, she raked them across my chest, tracing around each of my nipples with a finger before pulling away from me completely.

The cock-and-balls party in full force down below was now in violation of disturbing the peace, but I couldn’t do a thing about it.

Elaina’s hands came to rest on the only garment still covering her body. Those pale blue skimpy lace knickers. Just fuckin’ kill me already before I die an inhumane death.

She slipped her thumbs beneath lace at each hip.

That inhumane death I was worried about was going to happen regardless of my fears, and the meaning behind the expression ‘exquisite torture’ made absolute perfect fuckin’ sense to me too.

Just some simple life truths about Neil Emmett McManus. Accepted and understood.

My cock was agonizingly hard in my shorts, as time slowed down to imperceptible increments of forward movement. I’d waited so long for this, and wanted her so desperately, it was all I could manage to hold myself back—to control the urge to pull her beneath me and bury myself inside her—until the raging ache to claim her got some relief. I wanted to. I needed to.

I’d passed the point of no return with Elaina, and realized the signs clearly. No more waiting or enduring the agony of seeing her with other men, knowing they were getting something that was meant to belong only to me. I simply had to be connected to her, in both body and spirit, in order to soothe the savage craving tormenting me from the inside out for so long.

I forced myself to breathe deeply, watching as my beautiful girl slipped the lacy blue knickers over her hips, down those toned gorgeous legs of hers, gave a sexy little kick with a pointed foot, first with one leg and then the other, until the scrap landed silently somewhere in the room.

Fuck me into next week. I think I did die a bit watching her sexy strip show, my pathetic brain on such extreme sensual overload, there wasn’t much more I could do except expire while I took in the sight of the perfect beauty before me. My Cherry Girl.

My eyes still worked, even if my mind had gone to Elaina Land and was stumbling around gleefully with no clear direction other than, I have you naked in front of the window right now, and I’ll be inside you even sooner. She’d given me the most beautiful gift.

Her hair was luxuriously dark and silky, falling to midway down her back. I wanted to take it in handfuls to bind her against me while we fucked, using the length of it for leverage. I had so many ideas about what we could do, but right now I could only breathe and stare.

I’d had a healthy obsession with her hair for years—this I knew. Hell, it was the basis for the nickname I’d bestowed on her when she was young, and right then , was serving as her only covering. The mahogany red waves flowing down her shoulders and trailing over one breast but leaving the other bare, made my fantasy vision, utterly complete in every way.

Wordless. There weren’t any I could have used to describe her at that point. Useless to even try. She was beautiful, and naked, and wanting me to make love to her for the first time. Nothing else existed.

I prayed I would never forget how she looked to me in this moment, and I made a vow not to allow it to happen.

My body screamed with the need to kiss every beautiful part of her but that would take hours to do properly and I couldn’t wait hours. Hell, I couldn’t even wait seconds. That train had blown through town already with no waiting, no stopping, and no changing.

But, Elaina didn’t seem like she wanted things to be any different.

Christ, she’s so perfect…

I’m not sure how exactly, but I maneuvered us to the bed with Elaina laid out like a goddess upon it, my window fantasy but a distant memory, as I sat back on my knees and tried to decide where to go first. She had a body that took

my breath away, and I planned on touching every bit of it, the need to know how she felt under my hands and mouth as necessary as breathing.

“What is it?” she asked.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous I hardly know where to begin.”

“Kiss me.” She arched her whole body, offering herself up in the most beautiful way I lost the ability for coherent speech. The point was moot anyway as my mouth got busy in ways other than talking.

I slid my hands over her slowly, beginning at her throat and moving down, learning her soft curves, feeling her reaction to my hands on her, listening to the sounds she made because of what I did with them.

When my mouth found its way to her breasts again, I slowed the pace, devoting some time to getting to know them intimately. I took the whole tip of one into my mouth and sucked, rolling the nipple with my tongue and grazing with my teeth. She cried out softly, arching toward me even more. Her beautiful tits were very sensitive apparently, and this was precisely the kind of knowledge I desired to know about my girl.

I focused my attentions onto her other breast, holding its soft weight in my hand while suckling with my mouth, nipping the hard-budded nipple gently with my teeth. I got some beautiful sounds out of her for that effort, and I made a mental note of it for the future. Sexy sounds of submission and the acceptance of my touch, allowing me to take what she was willingly giving to me.

I sucked and licked and worked my way around both of her breasts. I put so many love bites on her, that I couldn’t count how many when I finally stopped and looked over my handiwork. Just claiming what was mine.

And, I wasn’t a bit sorry about marring the perfectness of her skin either. The marks I’d made with my mouth were symbols of what she meant to me, a tangible display of what we’d shared, and for our eyes only, to remember what we’d done on our first time together.

I needed so much more than that from her though.

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