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“I want you so bad, Stacy. So fucking bad.”
She opened her eyes. Michael had stopped kissing her, had bent his legs to press his cock against her mound. Her clit throbbed inside her panties. Too many clothes, too many barriers. Her tiny black skirt, her thin panties—it was all too much. She wanted to be naked with Michael. Naked and sexy and nasty.
“I want you too. I want to fuck you. I want to suck your cock. I want you to eat me. Will you eat me, Michael?”
He groaned, and his handsome face contorted into a sensual grimace. He inhaled. “God, I can already smell you. You smell like sex, Stacy. Like sweet sex. I want to bury my face between your legs. I promise I’ll eat you until you scream.”
She was ready to scream now. He lifted his shirt and threw it on the ground as she toyed with the snap on his jeans. Lord, he’d gone commando. His erection sprang out as soon as she unzipped, and it was more beautiful than she’d ever imagined. She’d described many a penis in her writing, but Michael’s golden shaft was worthy of a whole page. Long, thick, and perfectly formed, it stood at attention, ready to pleasure her. Ready to be pleasured.
He fumbled with the edge of her fishnet top, lifting it over her head, stopping to squeeze her full round breasts on the way.
“Perfect,” he said. “These are so fucking perfect.”
“I told you they’re real.”
He unsnapped her black pushup bra and pulled it off her, letting it drop to the floor. Her breasts fell gently against her chest.
“God, I believe you.” He cupped them, squeezed them. “They’re so soft, so pliable. They’re real all right. When I thought you were married, I swear to God I thought your husband was the luckiest SOB in the free world to get to lick and suck these every night.”
Her body quaked as she readied to channel her character once more. “Well, tonight is your lucky night, handsome. They’re all yours.”
He groaned and lowered his head, dropping kisses along her cleavage. “You smell like ripe peaches. He cupped one breast, gently teasing the nipple with his index finger.
Stacy gasped as the bud drew up tighter and her areol
a became taut and wrinkled. When he dipped his head and touched his tongue to the nub, electricity flashed through her.
David hadn’t paid much attention to her breasts. And though she’d done her share of making out before David, she’d been a good girl and hadn’t let any man venture underneath her clothing. This was the sizzle she’d written about, the amazing sensation of mouth on nipple.
This could go on forever and she would die a happy woman!
She shuddered and whimpered in pleasure. “That feels so good.”
“I haven’t even begun to make you feel good, Stacy.” He closed his lips around the nipple and tugged.
“Oh!” She willingly stopped herself from begging and decided to go with her feelings, not her thoughts. For the last time, she thought about Starr, and then she consciously decided just to feel. “Yes, Michael, yes. Suck my nipple, just like that.”
“Mmm.” His voice vibrated against her sensitive flesh. “You’re so fucking hot.” As he sucked, his fingers crept to her other nipple, and he teased it between two fingers.
The pressure ignited Stacy. “More, Michael. More.”
He twisted the hard bud while he nibbled on the other. His cock hung between his legs, hard and inviting, a pearly drop of pre-cum glistening on its head. She reached for it, clasped her hand around its thick girth.
He winced. “God, Stacy,” he said against her breast. “Not yet.”
Had she done something wrong? “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. God.” His fingers left her nipple and dived beneath her skirt to rub between her legs. “It’s just…I’m so turned on. And fuck, you’re so wet. Your panties are drenched.”
From what she knew, that was a good thing. “I’m wet for you, Michael. I want you.”
“Fuck, I want you too, baby. All of you.” He withdrew his hand from between her legs and pushed her skirt and panties down with one swoop.
She started to step out of her black strappy sandals, but he stopped her. “Leave them on, baby. They’re so sexy. And right now I want to taste that wet pussy of yours.”
He led her to the bed. “Lie down on your back,” he said, a tone of command in his voice, “and spread those long pretty legs.”
His jeans still hanging on his hips, Michael knelt between Stacy’s thighs. He closed his eyes and inhaled. “Mmm. I’ve been smelling you all night, and it’s been driving me slowly insane.”
