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He moves with me, walking us toward the bed, where he gently pushes me so I’m sitting. He removes my boots and socks, discarding them, and then he pulls me into a stand once more.
He kneels before me and unbuttons and unzips my jeans as I suck in yet another breath.
Slowly, he peels the jeans from my legs, trailing his fingers over each inch of my flesh. My thighs quiver, and goose bumps erupt all over me. A chill. Then a warm flame. A chill again.
The tickle in my pussy intensifies. This will be a slow burn. Not what either of us is used to, but as much as I want him inside me, I relish this.
I relish the slowness of it all.
I step out of my jeans when they reach my ankles, and Donny places them next to my boots and socks.
“Your feet are beautiful, Callie,” he says, leaning down and kissing the tops of them.
When he said he was going to kiss every inch of me, he clearly wasn’t kidding.
I gasp when he slides his tongue up my calf and thigh, until he gets to my pussy, which is still covered by my plain white panties. I brought a thong, but today, to go to the bank and deal with the past, I wore plain cotton panties.
Donny doesn’t seem to mind, though.
He places his mouth right on my pussy through my panties and simply breathes. The warmth of his breath, even through the cotton, sends me reeling. A soft sigh escapes my throat. He continues this for a moment, and then he stands and replaces his mouth with his fingers, massaging my clit through my panties. His lips meet mine in a tender kiss. A peck. Another. And then he turns me around, my back to him, and he grabs my ass cheeks, squeezing ever so gently.
He kisses the back of my neck, pushing one sleeve of my T-shirt over to bare one shoulder.
“God, your shoulders, Callie.” He gives my shoulder a tender bite and then another. Then he turns me back around and kisses my lips tenderly once more.
So different from our normal kisses. Our kisses are usually raw, not gentle like these. But the passion is still there. All the passion, all the love.
His lips slide over mine, parting them, and then his tongue. Again, so gentle.
My nipples are so hard they ache. My pussy is so wet it’s throbbing. I quiver all over, still wearing my T-shirt and panties and bra.
I cup both of his cheeks, trailing my fingers over his blond stubble. I run my hands down his neck, over his broad and beefy shoulders. Then I reach for his collar, start to unbutton his shirt, but he brushes my hand away.
“No. Let me do it all.”
His voice is gentle and soft but no less commanding. I drop my arms to my sides, the urge to touch him still so great that I have to will my arms to stay put.
“I want to touch you too,” I say.
“I know, baby. Please. Let me do this.”
It’s the please that gets me. He wants me. That much is apparent by the bulge pressing into my belly.
As much as I yearn to pull out his dick, drop to my knees, and suck him, I steel myself. He wants this. And so do I.
He continues to kiss me, still gentle. I’m amazed at his fortitude. So many times our kisses have led to a quick, hard fuck. What is different this time?
I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I surrender to the moment. I kiss him back, melting into him. He slides his hands down my neck, chest, squeezing my still clothed breasts and thumbing my nipples, which are already hard as green berries. I deepen the kiss, unable to hold back, and he responds. Our tongues twirl together, our teeth clash, but still his hands stay gentle, cupping my breasts and strumming over my nipples.
He moves one hand then, trails it down my abdomen, and reaches inside my panties to my mound. He slides lower, gliding through my folds.
I break the kiss with a gasp.
“You’re so wet, baby.”
I simply sigh in response.
Still, he stays gentle, using my own wetness as lubrication as he massages my clit.
I undulate into him, try desperately to ride his fingers, but he stays put, his gentle determination nearly blinding me with lust.
“Please, Donny.”
“You’ll get everything you need. I promise.” He drops to his knees again, removing his fingers from inside my panties and kissing my mound through the cotton. Then he inhales. “You smell like orange blossoms in the summer breeze. God, everything about you, Callie. Everything about you is perfection.”
His words make me shiver. Is it possible to orgasm from words alone? I’m beginning to think that it may be.
He grips the sides of my hips gently and then, also slowly, pushes the cotton panties over them. He stops when they’re midway down my thighs. Then he leans his nose and mouth into my mound once more and inhales again.
