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So with Krista still nowhere in sight, Kendall played with his dick again, his mind on the sexy Scorpio with the wet nasty tongue and deep wet pussy who had no sexual hang-ups about freaking with him. The woman who loved being fucked doggy-style and having her asshole licked and finger-fucked.
“I’m team ass-licker,” was what she’d told him in her initial email correspondence to him two years ago. And, so far, she’d stayed true to her word, sucking his dick, licking his balls, tonguing his ass, stroking his prostate—with no prompting, no hassles. And she did it because she loved it.
“Damn, Persia,” Kendall muttered as he thought about her. She loved a man nutting in her pussy, then licking his nut out of her body, and then kissing her. That kind of shit turned Kendall on.
His dick throbbed as he imagined his tongue inside Persia’s ass—and hers inside his. And Persia loved to kiss him afterward, the scent of pussy and dick and ass on their tongues as they swirled around the other’s.
That shit was a big turn-on.
Kendall groaned.
His mind drifted to Nairobia, to her role in his favorite porn, Ass Lickers; to the day she’d sat across from him, her foot easing up his leg. She was breathtaking. Goddess-like. Almost too real to be real. And yet she was as real as the air Kendall breathed.
So feminine.
So sensual.
So sexual.
What man would be able to resist her?
A better man than him, for sure.
Kendall’s hand languidly slid up and down the shaft of his dick as precum streamed from the tip. He milked himself as he slowly fucked his fist. Another shining bead of excitement welled from the crown and then slid down to the edge of his hand.
Kendall cupped his balls with his free hand, gently massaging himself there. His sac was so full and tender. Wetting two fingers with his spit, he smeared his spit over his balls, imagining it was Persia’s tongue, Nairobia’s tongue.
“I wanna fuck,” he muttered. “Mmm . . . aah, shit . . .” His hips rotated down into the mattress. Another swelling of precum was right below the crown. He knew if he didn’t stop, he’d explode. His orgasm was right there, on the edge.
But he kept stroking, slow and deep. He shifted upward, bending one leg at the knee. With his other hand, Kendall took his index and middle fingers and lightly brushed over his perineum, that area of skin between his balls and ass. He stroked over it with his fingertips, pressing down over it every so often.
Kendall’s dick grew harder.
He removed his hand from his perineum and then stopped pleasuring himself. He needed a moment to keep himself from ejaculating. It was sweet torture, teasing himself like this.
He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, and then groaned. I need to hurry and bust this nut, Kendall thought. Krista should be back soon. She’d already been gone for over an hour.
Kendall reached for the water-based lube he’d snuck from the gift basket a few weeks back. Shit. Krista wasn’t going to use it, so he decided to put it to good use—at least a few times, while he was here. Why the fuck did Krista have to be so goddamn rigid? How could he want his marriage so much, but still feel the need to seek pleasure outside of it?
Kendall sighed as he flipped open the cap and then squirted a glob on his two fingers. He prided himself on being a selfless lover, but Krista—Kendall sighed and shook his head. Thinking about it was making his dick go soft. He’d been guilty of holding on to hope that Krista would one day become more open-minded and sexually adventurous. But he realized, now since their stay here, that he was being a damn fool. There was no hope for Krista. She was a fucking lost cause.
Kendall sighed again. He wasn’t miserable. He wasn’t unhappy. But—shit, life was too short to be sexually unfilled. But was that enough, a reason, to leave?
Kendall squeezed his semi-erect dick at the base, and then slowly slid his hand up and down his shaft until it became rigid again. He reached further beneath his balls, his wet fingers pressing on his hole. “Aah, fuck . . .” He pressed the tip in. Stroking his dick faster, he pushed his fingers in further, curling them up toward his abdomen.
Practice. That’s what it had taken for Kendall to be able to find his P-spot—that fleshy, walnut-sized ball hiding behind the wall of his anus—without much effort, like now, the pad of his fingers on the round bulb of tissue.
“Ah. Uh . . . oh shit,” he groaned, deepening the hand strokes on his dick as he rhythmically massaged his prostate. The base of Kendall’s spine tingled. His balls tightened. A keening moan burst from Kendall’s chest as the muscles in his lower stomach tightened.
Eyes shut tight, Kendall’s torso lifted as heat speared through him and his orgasm burst out of his dick. His body jerked as he squeezed out the remainder of his nut. He flopped back on the bed, eyes still closed, breathing heavily. Slowly, he pulled his finger from his ass. And then—
“Oh. My. God.”
To Kendall’s shock, Krista stood in the doorway, a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. She looked furious—and hurt.
“Krista,” Kendall said as he scrambled out of the bed, his sticky dick swinging like a pendulum as he attempted to go to her.
“Don’t!” she shouted. “You dirty down-low motherfucker! Don’t come anywhere near me with your shitty-ass fingers.”
