Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
She smiles. “No. Not anymore. Jacob, please…”
Trailing off, it’s as if she can’t force herself to say the words.
“Say it,” I snarl. “You know what you want… what you need. So, say it.”
She takes a long breath, then whispers, “Please lick my pussy.”
I don’t waste any more time. The tension at the base of my cock won’t let me, the solidness of my shaft, my tip expanding and leaking precome, soaking my boxers.
Opening my mouth, I greedily claim her pussy, my upper lip pushed against her clit and my lower near her entrance. She gasps and leans back on the bed, clawing at the sheets again, and then I focus entirely on her.
I close my eyes and feast on her pussy, stroking my tongue up and down her lips, then licking her clit, slowly at first. I listen to her moans as my tongue moves, getting more urgent. As her moans rise, I move my tongue quicker, lavishing her eager clit with attention. She whimpers and shifts her hips in time with me, chasing the pleasure, and that drives me on.
I squeeze onto her thighs, indulgently sinking my hands into her thickness. Groans escape me as I guide my finger to her hole, circling her wetness. There’s pleasure in earning those moans from her, in pushing my face close to her pussy so her scent shrouds me completely.
Her hole grips my finger as I slide it in, never stopping my tongue strokes on her clit. She shudders as I slip my finger deeper, addicted to her heat, her tightness, and how soaked she is. She’s so ready, even if nerves are trying to hold her back. Swirling my finger in her hole, I somehow lick her clit even faster. Her moans are becoming breathy, panting quickly, as if she’s rushing toward her end.
Sensing how close she is, I push my finger further, wishing I could somehow see her from above as I’m buried between her legs, but I can feel the sheets moving, knowing she’s clawing at them. Her body bucks in rhythm with my carnal attention, so I know her curves are shifting around for me, her breasts shaking, her cheeks flushed red.
Her moans get even breathier. They’re almost silent now as if she can’t summon the sound. Every shred of her attention is on the sensation of the orgasm. She grinds her hips against my face. I get the sense this is a subconscious movement, the lust within her guiding, forcing away any nerves. Her hole pulses around my finger, tiny movements, but enough to tell me she’s very close.
My cock aches, the tip pushing against my pants. Finally, the orgasm surges through her. She’s shaking, the movement of the mattress telegraphing her pleasure, her clit feeling as though it expands with lust against my tongue. I swirl my finger fiercer inside of her, lick her as though nothing else exists, and nothing else does, not right now.
Not her mom. Not the press. Not Trent. None of it. Just my woman and her eager clit, her soaked hole, her desire, our future.
“Oh, y-yes,” she whimpers. “Oh, my God. Yes. J-J-Jacob…”
Her hips buck, her slit somehow getting even wetter. Her body is getting juicier and creamier because she knows what’s coming next. She knows there’s nothing in this world that could stop us. Once her orgasm has passed, I stand so I can look at her. It’s like I guessed. Her cheeks are gorgeously flushed, her hands grasping tightly onto the sheets.
“Sit up. I need to see your perfect tits.”
She does as I ask, lifting her arms when I grab her hoodie. I pull it up and over her head, and then quickly undo her bra, fumbling for a moment.
“Do you want me to help?” she murmurs.
“No,” I say, finally getting the clasp loose. It’s not as though I’m some bra master. One side effect of never having been a playboy, of waiting for my woman.
Her breasts spill free, and I’m on them right away. Pushing them together, I spoil myself. I massage them and suck on her nipples, one then the other, tasting, savoring. She smooths her hands over my back, clawing through my shirt, the pressure of her fingernails telling me how badly she wants this.
“I want to see you,” she whispers urgently.
I look up at her. “I love how confident you’re getting.”
Do I imagine the slight widening of her eyes when I use the word love? Surely, she has to know love is part of this. The biggest piece of all.
Standing again, I tear my shirt over my head, not patient enough for the buttons. I pull off my pants, my underwear, and my shoes. I stand there naked, my cock hard, my shaft wet with precome.
She reaches up and grabs my cock, spreading more wetness, her breasts jiggling, her thighs pushed together as though she needs contact against her eager, hungry, perfect pussy.