Page 247 of Devil’s Disciples

“What?” she asked. “You don’t like being touched?”

The thought of her touching me excited the absolute fuck out of me. Moving my arm away from my cock would lead her to believe I was exactly what she didn’t want me to be. There was no way I could hide my state of arousal if she was giving me a back rub.

“No.” I shook my head. “I like being touched.”

She moved closer. “Let me rub your shoulders.”

If she touched me, I’d probably come in my pants. Before I could blurt out an objection, she came even closer. Her milky smooth thigh brushed against mine.

The contact, albeit small, pushed me over the edge of the cliff.

Enough was enough. I was thirty-one years old, my days on earth were limited, and I was in the presence of the most attractive woman I’d ever seen. My arousal was natural. Whether I acted on my desires or not, there was no sense trying to hide it any longer.

“Look,” I said, lifting my forearm. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to fuck you on that stupid chair. I’m not saying I want to do it, I’m just saying I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Her gaze dropped to my bulge. Upon seeing it, her eyes shot wide. “This is dumb,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

“Let’s screw.” She motioned toward the chair. “On that.”

“You said you needed to--”

“You’re wearing jeans and a wife beater,” she said. “This is torture. I can’t take it anymore. My nipples are so hard they ache. I’m so wet it’s uncomfortable. I’m attracted to you because I’m attracted to you. What am I trying to prove?”

“So, you’re okay with--”

She nodded. “I am.”

“You want to--”

She tugged against the hem of her shorts. “I do.”

“I don’t want to force you to--”

“Come here,” she said.

I shook my head. “I can’t stand up.”

She lifted the oversized leg of her shorts and nodded toward the opening she’d created. “Stick your hand in there.”

I wasn’t about to argue with her. With my eyes locked on hers, I slid my hand along the inside of her thigh, from her knee to her pussy.

She began to giggle like a teen.

“Sorry,” she said, her face blushing as she spoke. “It’s been a while.”

I smiled in return and continued. As the knuckle of my index finger bumped against her clit, she flinched and let out a moan. Her pussy was just as she said it would be. Soaking wet. It was also, much to my surprise, surrounded by hair.

I grabbed her shorts by the waistband and pulled them away from her stomach. With the curiosity of a cat, I peered inside. A two-inch long vertical strip of hair as wide as my index finger was just above her otherwise perfectly pretty little pussy.

“What the fuck is that?” I gasped.

Her eyes shot wide. “What?”

I nodded toward the trail of pubes. “That. It looks like a caterpillar is crawling out of your twat.”

“It’s a landing strip,” she said matter-of-factly. “They’re popular again.”