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He kissed my neck again, and I felt pleasure tingle through my skin up to my brain, making me feel giddy. I’d never had a guy spend so much time on my neck before.
His fingers slid down my shoulders, over my arms in a gentle caress. I felt my heart thudding so hard I thought it would pop. He repeated the gesture, each time tugging the straps a little more off my shoulders.
I shivered as he drew the dress down to my waist. We were alone on the rooftop of the tallest building in the city. Nobody could see us, but my skin still turned red at the prospect of being exposed outside.
My mouth flew open in a gasp as he swept his fingers up and under my breasts, lifting them from the weight of the world.
“Here?”
I nodded, unable to speak, my eyes fluttering closed. He kissed my neck again as his thumbs and forefingers teased my nipples. He was in no hurry, slowly massaging and teasing my pink nipples until they stood at attention.
“Stand up,” he said, grasping me under the breasts. I rose to my feet, standing on watery knees as he slipped my dress off fully. My skin broke out in new goose pimples as I stood there exposed to him, wearing only a pair of tiny black panties and heels.
“You are a work of art,” he said, his eyes oozing desire. He took me in his arms and then kissed my lips for the first time. I moaned deeply into his throat, his tongue lashing against my own.
I gasped with a slight surprise when he lifted me and put my bottom on the now cleared table. His fingers hooked into the triangle of cloth in front and pulled. My mouth flew open as the panties flossed me, vanishing between my swollen, glistening wet pussy lips.
“You like that, don’t you?”
His voice was not an accusation, or a sneering put down. It was a rhetorical question, one we both knew the answer to. I liked it very much, and that was obvious to all.
The cloth felt good stimulating my clit, but he soon stopped tugging and hooked his fingers in the waistband instead. I moaned softly as he slipped my panties off.
I felt a hot flush on my skin. I was now completely exposed to him. He gently spread my legs a bit wider, his palms warm on my inner thighs.
“Jennifer…”
He stroked his fingers across my pussy and I shuddered. My legs shook as he pushed his fingers inside of me. Marshall took his time. Some guys jammed their fingers in there and went at it like a jackhammer.
This was a slow, sensual exploration. He sought out all of my pussy’s secrets, all in the name of finding out what I liked. Marshall used the fingers of his free hand to pry my lips open a bit more widely. Then he worked the third digit inside of my dripping wet pussy.
Marshall worked his fingers in and out, pushing up the back of my clitoris into his gently massaging thumb. Every lingering thrust pushed me that much closer to an orgasm. Pulses of pleasure emanated from his fingers through my pussy and then spread to the rest of my body.
I was right on the edge. Just a little more, maybe even just the right word from Marshall, would have shoved me right off the precipice of a monumental orgasm. Suddenly, I grabbed his wrist and pulled away.
“Stop.”
