Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
"I do, or I'm never going to get your naked," I grumble. "You eat too slow."
Her giggle of amusement warms my belly. "I'm sorry. I can't eat as fast as you. My mouth is smaller."
"I like your small mouth. And your small hands."
This time, she snorts with laughter. "I do not have small hands. Nothing on me is dainty."
"Your hands are small on my cock," I say, leaning in to kiss her. She tastes like meat pie and ale, and when I lift my mouth from hers, she looks dazed and distracted. "Are you done eating?"
"It's because your cock is so great in size," Iolanthe agrees, holding the pie out for me to take. "It would dwarf any woman's hands."
Well now, she knows how to flatter a man.
I take the last of the pie from her and set it aside, then help her pull off the constricting red dress and attached bodice. Women's clothes are a damned nightmare as far as I'm concerned, and I want her to be comfortable. When she's in nothing but her chemise, she scratches at her waist and sighs pleasantly. "Much better."
I'm not done with her yet, though. I get a cloth, dip it in the washbasin, and then wipe down her hands, face, neck and feet, much to Iolanthe's amusement. She protests that I'm treating her like a child, but she doesn't push me away, which tells me just how tired she truly is. Iolanthe is exhausted, even though she's fighting it. That's all right. For this next part, all she has to do is lie back and let me make her feel good. So once she's clean, I toss the washcloth into the basin, push my mate's chemise up to her waist, and begin kissing along the insides of her thighs.
"Oh," Iolanthe breathes, her toes curling. She lies back on the bed, her long hair loose, a dreamy expression on her face. "Oh, are we doing that?"
"Should I stop? Are you too tired?" I kiss up to her knee, lifting it as I go.
"Too tired to have you do all the work?" She chuckles, hitching her chemise up a little higher and revealing her pretty cunt to me. "Not at all. Your mouth feels good."
I grin up at her. "Then let me take care of you in this way, too." And I kiss my way up to the apex of her parted thighs.
She makes sweet little sighs as I settle between her legs, propping them over my shoulders. I immediately set to work, tonguing her in the way I know she likes. Iolanthe squirms against my tongue, her hand sliding to my hair as I lavish attention on her folds. She hums with pleasure as I work her clit, sucking and teasing it, but I can tell she needs a bit more tonight. She's tired and it's taking her longer to get aroused. That's all right. Normally I'd feast on her for hours, content to just spend my time between her legs, but I know she's fatigued. I've been saving one of my tricks for a special occasion, and now seems like a good opportunity.
So I ease a finger into her warmth, even as I continue to lap at her clit. She makes another humming sound of pleasure, so I add another finger, stretching her for my cock. She's wet, but not slippery enough to take me with ease. Not yet. I crook my finger inside her, searching for the slightly roughened spot inside her front wall. It takes a moment to find it, but when I do, the reaction is immediate. Iolanthe's legs jerk and she sucks in a breath. "W-what was that?"
"Nothing love," I murmur against her flesh. "Lie back and enjoy."
Iolanthe's hand tightens in my hair, and I notice the other is twisted in the front of her chemise. She likes to pull and tug on her clothing when she's in danger of losing control, and the sight of this pleases me. I tickle my finger at the spot inside her even as I suck on her clit again, and she cries out, arching against my mouth.
Loving her reaction, I tongue her with enthusiasm, determined to wring every little cry and gasp out of her. Every bit of this is perfection, from the way her heels dig into my back as she strains against my fingers, to the wet sounds her cunt is now making as I tease a stroking finger in and out before teasing her rough spot again. She squeals, and then my name is a needy, high-pitched whine in her throat as her hips quiver and jerk, her release looming closer and closer.
When her legs tighten against my face, I can ignore my own need no longer. I lift my head—immediately, Iolanthe cries a protest and tries to shove my head back down. "No!"