Page 29 of Kneeling to Candy

Breathing heavily, Butch opens his eyes. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s encountered. He looks at me like he’s barely holding on, shaking with need.

It’s a little surreal seeing how I affect him as much as he affects me.

I lean forward, my nipples grazing his chest, and say, “Before you blow your load, I’m going to blow your mind.”

And then I rock my hips forward, again and again…

“Candy,” Butch groans weakly, “fuck you’re everything.”

Oh, my heart! It flutters wildly in my chest.

I’m everything—to him.

Ravenous, I capture his mouth with mine. He tastes like smooth whiskey and the tang of my lingering arousal. Delicious.

My hips quicken, rocking, rolling. My clit drags around the coarse hairs on his pelvis, sending toe-curling shocks through my core.

With every rotation of my hips, I bring us closer to nirvana. By the way his breathing labors, I can tell he’s close.

Perfect. I am too. And I want us to go over the edge together.

Needing his touch, I remove his hands from my hips and drag them to my chest. “Touch me. Squeeze me.”

Butch palms my breasts, trying hard not to bruise my skin. It’s no good. I want his fingertip markings on me for days to come.

“Touch me like you mean it,” I order, my voice demanding his obedience.

Finally, he grips my tits, kneading. He tugs on my nipples, eyeing them hungrily.

“Yes,” I moan at the first flutters of my oncoming orgasm. “Come. Fill me with your hot spunk.”

Butch bucks underneath me, flooding my insides with wet warmth at the same time I detonate on his cock. Our bodies jerk together, contracting and pulsing as the last ripples of pleasure receded.

Panting, we hold each other. Butch shakes from his exertion, his eyes never leaving mine.

I take his chin with my fingers, claiming his lips, before pulling my face back and saying, “Get on the bed. I’m not through with you yet.”

His smile is feral, teeth bared. “Then you better tie me to the headboard if you’re not ready to accept all I have to give.”

I exhale slowly as I come back to the present. The heat of the memory causes my body to blush.

Last night was beyond perfect. So perfect, I question if I’m awake and not dreaming. I pinch my arm to check.

“Ouch,” I hiss under my breath as my arm stings in protest.

Yup. Wide awake.

Delighted, I cup my hands over my mouth to muffle my excited squeal as I do a little happy dance in the center of the bathroom.

The only thing that could make this moment better is if Butch wanted me as his old lady.

Out of nowhere, an image of me and Butch in front of a white altar draped in fake flowers, saying our vows, springs into my head. Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major plays softly overhead in the candlelit chapel. My biker looks at me with such longing as he slips a giant pink Ring Pop on my finger.

What the…? A Ring Pop?

Ha! What a bizarre fantasy. It must have been a dream from last night, to stand out so fresh in my mind.

I shake my head but can’t shake my smile.

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