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This was more than dutiful, more than foreplay, more than repaying a debt or ticking off a box. Shane’s adoration was evident, his attention to detail exquisite and his patience extraordinary. He seemed to sense just how long to linger as he lathered bawdy attention along the petals of her throbbing pussy, how deeply to slither his tongue just inside, how long to linger there before returning to base camp and applying just the right amount of pressure, heat, and circumference to her weeping bud.
In no time he had poor Tatum cursing like a sailor, white-knuckled as she gripped the metal headboard, the bed creaking beneath her desperate, writhing flanks as she warned him of the impending fireworks. He ignored her eagerly, using his tongue like a finger to tenderly caress and slither against her tender flesh until, until … she came. Again. Harder than the first time, harder than any time, until she thought her breathing might never return to normal, to say nothing of her heart rate.
Her curses littered the air, outmatched only by her squeals of passion, pleasure, and the desperate, stomach-clenching pain of desire so intense it actually physically hurt. But the bittersweet pain was nothing compared to the warm, syrupy heat that radiated through her trembling body, thighs clenched and frozen as the tremors coursed through every inch of her.
And still Shane lay, nestled between her thighs, breath warm, mouth slick, and tongue firm against every inch of her swollen sex, rippling and writhing with the aftershocks of her first climax. The next came quickly, suddenly, without warning, as if her body had betrayed her, or perhaps Shane had literally hacked her nervous system to wrest control away from her completely.
She gave it over willingly, eager to lie there, lost to the world, beyond all other senses, thighs spread, pussy wet, nipples hard and her earnest young lover patiently serving up climax after climax until her throat ached from squealing. Her fingers tingled from clenching, her thighs were rubber, her ass was chafed from writhing, and her poor, throbbing sex begging to be released from whatever hold Shane’s tender lips and probing tongue had over it!
It took every ounce of energy she had to squeeze her thighs shut just enough to prevent his face from moving another inch. “Ow,” he teased, making them both laugh as, at last, she released him.
He smiled up at her from between her legs, licking his lips lavishly as if savoring the last of her fragrant pussy liquor before he slowly, regally knelt between them. Their eyes met as she steadied herself, readjusting her hands and nodding suggestively between her legs.
“What?” he asked, his cock rock-hard and glistening at the tip.
“Fuck me, Shane.”
Chapter Sixteen
Shane
“Come again?”
Shane could hardly believe his ears, even though his eyes told him Tatum meant every word she’d just said. “I intend to,” she purred, clasping those tender, velvet thighs on either side of his legs as he knelt between them. “With you deep inside me.”
“Jesus, girl, I thought…”
She cocked her head, throat bright with thrush and nipples still firm and taut. “Thought what, Shane?”
“That you … you wanted to go slow?”
She barked laughter, warm and guttural, the same way she squealed and cursed every time she came. “Do I look like I’m ready to go slow, cowboy?”
“No, but … you sure about this?” Shane scratched his head, as if solving a particularly troublesome math problem back in high school.
“Shane, trust me when I tell you I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”
Shane nodded quietly, considering. She sure looked sure, her body sweaty from nearly a dozen orgasms, her lips puffy from lust and her pussy pink and pearly with her own, fragrant cream. He wouldn’t need lube, that was for sure. “I just…”
He knelt between her legs, cock throbbing and hard as a baseball bat. “Just what, baby?” She seemed to sense what was troubling him, even if he didn’t. “Are you nervous about something?”
“Hell, no!” he lied, too quickly.
She wriggled closer, the bed squeaking as she drew him gently in. He could feel the heat of her pussy against his cock, so close he could lean slightly forward and slither it right in, deep until their joints met and he wedged himself hard and tight inside the hottest woman he’d ever met.
So whatwashe afraid of, after all?
Then he said it, before he even realized he was saying it, let alone thinking it. “I just … what then?”
She winked luridly, wriggling her firm, ripe ass for emphasis. The sudden motion drew him even closer, so close a drizzle of his pre-cum dripped onto her swollen pink snatch, slithering across her puffy labia as if drawing him a path to follow. “What then? You want me to show you where to put it, Big Boy?”
He chuckled nervously. “No, I mean…”
Her voice lowered a notch, to match the almost somber tone in her voice. “I know what you mean, Shane. You want to know what happens after we’ve crossed the last hurdle, done the final deed. What next? It’s what every couple asks, and we’ll never know if we don’t try, right?”
“I want to try, I guess you’re right. I’m scared.”
Tatum made a soft, gentle clucking noise, like maybe she was trying to get a stray kitten to drink from her bowl of milk. “Baby, there’s nothing to be afraid of here, okay? It’s you, it’s me … you wanted me to take your virginity, right? This is me telling you I’m ready if you are, Shane.”
