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When he nodded, strands of golden hair tickled her.
“That piece is pure madness. But it’s not what I’m feeling now. Right now I’m mad for you. Mad with passion, not anger or regret. If I can’t have you, I’ll go even madder with lust.” He growled against her throat as his deft fingers unhooked her bra and discarded it.
Her ample breasts fell gently against her chest.
“You’re fucking beautiful. They’re perfect.” His lips closed around one hard nipple.
She groaned as his touch set her afire. Danza del Fuego. Ritual Fire Dance. The chords rang her in head as he tugged on her tight bud and then licked it. First bite, and then soothe, and each sensation traveled at light speed straight to her clit.
Ah, yes, there existed more than one meaning to the cleansing fire dance. Chandler was getting over a woman. And Jane
? Well, she hadn’t had sex in a long time. This was pure fantasy for her. A pure dance of fire and passion. Perfect.
He moved to the other nipple and kissed it, worshiped it, as he continued to knead the first between his thumb and forefinger. “Gorgeous breasts, Janie,” he rasped against her areola. “Perfect.”
She sighed. She couldn’t stand much longer. Surely she would melt soon.
As though he’d read her mind, her nudged her backward, toward the piano, until her bottom hit the smooth wood. Good, at least it was something to lean against. He bent and took her mouth again in a possessive kiss. His bare chest felt like heaven against her breasts, and his hard cock nudged against her bellybutton through the barrier of his jeans.
Why hadn’t he gotten naked yet? She tried to say as much, but her words were muffled by his kisses. He rained tiny pecks on her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead.
When he reached her ear, he whispered, “I can’t get enough of you. Your scent, your touch. You drive me crazy!”
Crazy. Mad. Those same words again. They described her feelings as well. “Take off your pants, Chandler,” she said boldly. “I want to touch your cock.”
“Oh baby,” he rasped against her neck, “I will, and you won’t be disappointed. But good things come to those who wait. First I’m going to rid you of the rest of your clothes, set you on top of that piano, and eat your juicy pussy till I’m ready to burst.”
Moisture gushed from her. Her panties were already saturated. Now her jeans themselves were no doubt wet. Chandler worked at the snap and then the zipper. He fell to the ground and tugged off her sandals. Soon her jeans joined his shirt and hers on the floor.
He lifted her—what strong arms!—and carried her to the piano’s shiny keyboard. With a discordant plunk, he set her onto the keys. Their coldness shocked her, but only for a millisecond. Her body heated through.
Chandler pulled up the black bench and sat, his giant erection apparent beneath his jeans. He stared at her pussy—simply stared—until Jane was sure she would burst open.
“So pretty, Janie.” He traced her outer lips with one finger. “And so wet for me.”
The slight caress of his finger nearly sent her over the edge. She closed her eyes, inhaled. “For God’s sake, Chandler, eat me!”
“Oh, I will, baby. Can’t I admire the artwork first?”
“You’re driving me crazy!”
He chuckled. “Seems to be the theme of the day. Craziness. Madness. Right now I’m insane looking at this gem between your legs. You’re so beautifully made. You remind me of a cute little Mozart sonata.”
A soft giggle erupted from her throat. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
He nodded. “The highest compliment. Mozart made the most complicated music sound so simple. When I look at you, I see how such a simple thing as a pussy, something all women possess, can be the most beautiful thing in the world when it’s attached to a woman I desire so strongly. Your lips are full and meaty, your cunt wet and pink, your clit swollen and wanting. So hot, so inviting.” He looked up at her and smiled. “And don’t even get me started on that cute little asshole of yours.” He traced a path from labia lips down her perineum to rub her tight opening, moist from the pussy juice that had trickled downward.
Jane’s heart stomped, nearly out of her chest. His mouth had descended and he was tonguing her ass. Probing it. God, it felt good.
“But my pussy, Chandler. I want your mouth on my pussy!”
His head bobbed up. “You don’t like what I’m doing?”
“Fuck. I love it! But if you don’t eat my pussy I’m going to die right here!”
His smile warmed her. “We can’t have that.” He slid his tongue over her clit.
She shattered. The orgasm hit her full force, seemingly from nowhere, much like it had the previous day. Was this man some kind of sex god? How could he make her come so easily?
