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Lucy
Weston’s handis tight against my throat as he shoves home inside me. My body is so tightly coiled, ready to explode any minute. Every time I get close, he pauses and makes me start all over. Now, it’s all I can do to be silent while he brings my body to heights it’s never seen before.
The sounds of our flesh meeting fill the tent, each thrust echoing against the walls. I watch Malcom, hyper focused on his closed eyes while Weston fucks me.
The fact that he could wake at any moment fills me with an alluring excitement. This is more than fucking his dad. This is dirty and hot and fucking thrilling. My pussy tightens as I crest, my nipples hardening. As if he can sense how close I am, Weston tightens his fingers against my neck.
His face is buried in my hair, nuzzling, searching. Moments later, his lips find the skin of my shoulder and trail along the length of my neck. I slip a hand behind my back and dig my fingers into his hip, pulling his body toward mine faster... faster.
Then his teeth are buried in the soft the flesh where my neck meets my shoulder. The white-hot pain barely registers as I rush over the edge, clenching around his cock. He thrusts forward, his hand gripping my hip as he follows, filling me with pump after pump of his hot cum.
After a few moments, Weston releases me, slipping his cock free and rolling onto his back. He pulls me with him, then we are both panting, staring at the ceiling of the tent.
He turns back to his side, tracing a finger down my stomach and across my sensitive clit before passing through my slit. When his hand reappears, his fingers are glistening with our combined juices. He presses the fingers to my lips. I open, and he slips them in my mouth. The taste of us is salty and sweet. It’s beyond erotic, licking myself from his fingers. I wrap my lips around them and suck them clean.
When he pulls them away, his lips press to mine, his tongue invading my mouth. My fingers dig into his biceps until he slips from my mouth and slides between my thighs. Pushing my legs apart, he presses his lips to my pussy entrance and slips his tongue inside.
Within minutes, my breathing is ragged, my pulse thrumming in my ears once again. How this man manages to make my body react to his touch this way, I may never know. And as long as he doesn’t ever stop, I don’t care. Weston sucks the lips of my pussy into his mouth, holding the suction while he rolls the flesh with his tongue. When he reaches my clit, he flicks against the sensitive nub over and over again, never once releasing the pressure.
My legs shake uncontrollably. My eyes squeeze shut, blocking out everything but the feel of his mouth on me. His teeth graze me, and my hips thrust up involuntarily, his name a silent scream on my lips as he repeats the gesture again, scraping them gently across me before suckling my flesh back into his mouth.
Light explodes behind my eyelids, stars sparking to life around me as I come fiercely. The tremors quake through my body like a magnitude-eight earthquake.
Weston lifts first one foot and then the other, slipping my shorts back up my thighs. Reaching for the waistband, I pull them up and then fall back on the sleeping bag. He kisses a path back up my body, his lips seeking mine in the dark. I open for him and breathe in the scent of my arousal on his face.
“You taste like heaven, Little Dove. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”
And then he lies beside me, pulling my head into the crook of his arm. I’m asleep in minutes, my body thoroughly sated.
