Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
She gives me a look, well aware of my ulterior motive, though I don’t want her to get a sunburn either. “The sun is starting to go down,” she says. “I should be okay.”
“Well, then, how about a massage?”
Lorraine’s eyes are soft as she smiles at me. “I’ll never say no to a massage.”
18
Lorraine
Troy straightens the blanket, which was wrinkled from us sitting on it. He folds another towel into a pillow shape and tells me to lie on my stomach.
Even though the sun isn’t at its fullest, it’s still strong enough to feel warm and lovely on my skin. There’s no better feeling than lying in the sun with an ocean breeze softly blowing. No better feeling, except for Troy’s strong hands on my bare skin.
He starts on my shoulders, using the same broad strokes as he did with the sunscreen, and there must be enough of it left on my skin, because his hands glide along smoothly. He kneads the muscles on my upper arms, first one, then the other, at a languorous pace that could lull me to sleep if I weren’t constantly aware of the nearness of his body.
He massages my forearms, my hands, and even my fingers, treating every inch of me with tender care. I feel heavy on the sand, soaked with the sun’s rays, almost drunk with pleasure. Not drunk like I’m losing my head, but in the foggy, relaxed way that feels so good. A massage on the beach is something else I’ve never experienced, and it’s wonderful.
Troy’s hands caress my lower back and stroke upward under the strings of my bikini top. “Is it okay if I untie this?” he asks. “There’s no one around.”
When I murmur agreement, his fingers undo the tie, and my pussy flutters with the thrill of it. He relaxes my back muscles thoroughly with just the right amount of pressure. Occasionally, his fingers dip lower to the sides of my breasts, and I begin to ache with the need for him to touch me in more places.
As if reading my mind, his hands soon slide around and under me, cupping my breasts briefly, then massaging and returning, eventually focusing on my nipples. His touch there sends sensations shooting lower in my belly and outward to my fingers and toes.
With a few smooth movements, he rolls me onto my side and lies down beside me, his head level with my chest. Cupping one breast in his hand, he brings his mouth to it and wraps his lips around my nipple, licking lightly at first, then sucking on it, and I’m in heaven.
His knees tangle with my legs and his palm strokes over the side of my body, from my waist down to my hip and back as he continues to lazily lick and suck as if he could carry on doing it all day. His tongue swirls circles around my hardened peaks, and I could almost come, but my body needs more from him.
I’m in no rush either, though. What he’s doing is absolute bliss, and I relax into the soft sand that lies beneath the towel and enjoy this once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Eventually his hand slides down and slips into my bikini bottoms, a finger stroking over my trim hair before he presses downward, making a sound of surprise when he discovers how wet I am. I’m surprised when he pulls his hand back, but his intent is soon clear.
He slides backward on the towel and rolls me onto my other side, so that my back is against his chest. His arm wraps around my hip and his hand returns to my pussy, gently stroking me there as he nuzzles my neck, kissing my shoulder, nibbling at my earlobe, whispering in my ear.
“I want you so badly,” he says, his voice low and husky, triggering another rush of wetness between my legs. “I want to be inside you.”
I murmur a sound of surprised pleasure as his other hand slides under me and into my bottoms, joining the first. I’m wrapped in his embrace, warm and safe in his arms as his fingers start to work some kind of magic.
In unison, they slide through my wet folds, spreading me open, quickly finding my clit and lighting me up. My husband used to fumble around for it, and when he did find it, his touch was usually too hard or too rough. That’s all a dull memory as Troy gathers my wetness, using it to lubricate the soft circles he traces around my clit.
“Come for me, Lorraine.” He follows up his command with action that steadily brings me to the edge. My breaths come faster, in short little huffs that almost make me lightheaded. He holds me tight as his skillful fingers press into my clit, and I let go, clenching, releasing, arching in his arms and then shuddering my release.