Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
But I don’t allow myself to get caught up in the act. I work her clit and G-spot as I lick her, and soon—
“Brock! My God!”
Her vagina quivers around my fingers. And damn, her ass tastes even sweeter with her orgasm. I ease up a bit, let her come down, and then I go crazy on her once more.
“God, yes!”
“You taste so good,” I say against her ass.
Then I continue.
I pull another orgasm out of her, and I probe my tongue into her asshole.
I don’t dare use a finger yet, but my God…
The things I dream about…
When she comes down from her fourth climax, I climb back on top of her, shove myself into her pussy from behind, doggy style. It’s amazing how different the act feels with each position.
My dick is so sensitive, having come only moments before.
I’ll last longer this time, and I plan to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
RORY
The ache. The emptiness. How Brock eases all my worries with one simple thrust of his hard cock.
He’s fucking me hard, fast, and even now, after so many climaxes… Even now I want more of him.
I want his tongue between my legs, between my ass cheeks.
I want his tongue between my lips, licking my nipples, licking every part of my body.
I want his mouth everywhere.
I want my mouth everywhere on him.
I vow that once he comes again, I will have my turn on top.
And there is not an inch of him that my tongue will not touch.
Thrust, thrust, thrust…
He empties into me, and he’s so deep within me, that I swear his dick is touching my heart.
Never have I felt the way—not with another man or another woman—that I feel with Brock Steel.
He stays inside me for a few moments, and I relish the feeling of his strong muscular body on top of mine, his chest to my back.
I straighten my legs, flatten onto the mattress, and his body completely covers mine.
Perfect. So perfect.
We rest for a while this way.
Until finally, I lift my hips, nudging him.
He rolls over to his side and then onto his back, his arm strewn across his forehead.
His body is covered in a light sheen of perspiration, only it doesn’t look like sweat. It looks like a glistening, almost ethereal, light.
“My God, sweetheart…”
“You just lie there,” I say. “Lie there, because I’m not finished with you.”
“You’re going to have your way with me?” He chuckles.
“Oh, yes. I am totally going to have my way with you.” I climb on top of him, kiss his lips, let my tongue tangle with his for a few moments. It’s a soft kiss. Not a necessary kiss but an enjoyable one. A postcoital kiss.
I’ve got four orgasms under my belt, and he’s got two.
Now I just want to savor his body. To taste every inch of him.
I kiss his forehead, his cheeks, the strong outline of his jaw. He’s salty, from the sweat, but also spicy and musky. The flavor of Brock Steel.
He groans. “Feels good, sweetie.”
Sweetie. A new endearment. Usually from Brock it’s sweetheart, sometimes baby. Sweetie. I like it. It warms me inside.
I gaze over his entire body, the perfect specimen of masculinity.
His cock lies semiflaccid against his belly. I wonder if I can coax another orgasm out of him.
He’s gotten four out of me so far, but as a bisexual woman, I know better than anyone the differences between men and women.
I know all the hot-button spots for both sexes.
“You just lie there,” I say. “Let me do what I want to do.”
He closes his eyes, groans once more.
I slide my lips over his neck, over his bronze shoulders. His flesh is warm, hard, so enticing.
And again, the saltiness of his sweat stings my lips. But in a totally good way.
I glide down his chest, using my lips and my fingers to touch as much of him as I can. When I reach his nipples, they’re already erect, waiting for me.
I lick one, tease it with my tongue.
He groans.
Yes, nipple stimulation. It’s not just for women.
I suck his nipple between my lips and then bite it gently.
Another groan from him, and it emanates through his whole body and into mine.
I tease his other nipple with my fingers, and then I move to it with my teeth and tongue.
At the same time, I run my free hand up and down his flank. The pure warm muscle.
The perfection.
Once I’m done with his nipples, I rain kisses over his taut chest and abdomen, sliding my tongue through each line of muscle of his six pack.
Until I get to—the dark triangle of curls, and his cock…
Which is no longer semiflaccid.
He’s hard again. Hard and beautiful, and I ache to suck it between my lips.
But not before I’ve kissed every part of his body.
I avoid his cock, but I kiss all around it, inhaling the musky scent of his bush. Then I move to his thighs, kiss them, knead them with my hands.