Page 28 of Kneeling to Candy

Butch’s tongue swipes from entrance to clit and back. “Mmm. My favorite—candied juices.”

“Such a greedy mouth you have,” I purr. “Use it to abuse my pussy.”

He attacks my cunt with his hot, wet mouth—swiping, flicking, sucking the cream from my body like a hungry man. The pleasure is intense, making me mewl loudly.

“Yes,” I pant. “Suck on it harder. Show me how hungry you are.”

Butch throws one of my legs over his shoulder before doing the same with the other, almost like he’s hellbent on demonstrating how big his appetite is. His powerful arms and broad shoulders hold me upright by my thighs. My legs wrap around his head, unwilling to release him. I’m pinned to the door by his mouth, tongue, and teeth.

Sinking into the rapture, I hold on tight to the back of his head, kneading my fingers into his short hair. He works me over, slow and then fast, pushing me closer to the finish. My heartbeat races with each firm pull of his mouth on my oversensitive flesh.

And my oh my, does this man devour. He eats my pussy to the bone.

On the cusp of an intense orgasm, I say the only thing I can to alert him I’m close. “BUTCH!”

With one final, hard suck on my clit, I explode against Butch’s mouth. A scream rips from my lungs as I ride the orgasmic waves on Butch’s tongue, rubbing my sex all over his mouth.

Words of praise pour from my mouth. “Good boy. Good filthy boy.”

And through it all, Butch holds me—lips wet from my arousal and eyes hooded with desire.

The sight of him consumed with lust for me has my insides flaring to life again. This moment with him is delightfully sinful. I want more—crave it.

Pushing my biker’s head away from the junction between my legs, I remove one leg and then the other off his shoulders. Butch looks momentarily sad until I shove him to the ground and straddle his thighs.

Screw the bed. I need to have him inside me—now. Any rug burns accumulated, I’ll wear proudly.

Tugging at his jeans, I’m eager to strip him. Butch helps me shove the denim down his hips. His erection strains against the soft cotton of his boxers, a wet patch on the dark fabric right where the bulbous head of his penis touches.

“You’re wet for me,” I coo with approval, my chest warming at seeing the effect I have on him.

“Yes. Only you do this to me,” Butch husks, pushing his boxers down and releasing his hard dick from its confines. It stands at attention, ready for duty.

I’ve seen his fat cock once over a year ago, and it took everything in me not to jump him on the spot. But tonight, I don’t need to hold back.

“Do I need a condom?” Butch asks, his eyes glued to my chest I remove my bra and set my heavy breasts free.

It’s the first time a man has asked me if he needs protection. Either a guy would automatically roll one on or shove it in without consent. But not Butch.

My heart squeezes. He cares.

“Only if you want to. I swear I have nothing. Plus, I haven’t been with anyone in over a year.”

“I know,” Butch says with a sexy smirk, highlighting the dimples in his cheeks.

Of course he does. He’s been keeping a watchful eye on me through the headquarters’ cameras all this time, always present in case I needed him for anything.

“I haven’t been with anyone either,” he adds, watching where his cock slid along the outer lips of my pussy. He looks up at me, moistening his lips with his tongue. “I’ve dreamed of this moment, right here, where you ride me raw.”

Overwhelmed by his confession, I smile and ask, “Is that what you want? To go raw with me?”

He nods, nostrils flaring. “Yes, Goddess. Yes, ride me. Ride me until you’ve had your fill.”

Already wet and ready, I glide down his hard length until I’m fully seated. My biker is endowed, thicker than most men. My snatch aches in the best way, stretching to accommodate all Butch offers.

I gaze at my biker beneath me. His eyes are shut tight and his lips are in a thin line. He grips my hips in his hands with taut muscles.

“Look at me, Butch.”

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