Page 164 of Ewan

This is so sudden that I don’t know how to react. My face hits the pillow, and the sound of my dress being ripped off my body makes me scream.

My bra poses no real resistance to his skillful hands.

He tears it off like it’s nothing.

The same thing happens to my panties and my stockings before my shoes fall to the floor.

Next, his belt hits the floor, and I imagine his pants follow suit.

He grabs the back of my hair, pulls me up without hurting me, and makes me take him into my mouth again.

He’s naked, and so am I. Only he has complete control, and I have none.

And I take him into my mouth as much as I can, my tongue trailing the veins on his hardness.

I take him like there’s nothing else I’d want to do right now. Because there isn’t.

33

EWAN

My little teacher is a goddess.

A hostage goddess, that is, with her hands tied at her back, her hair in my fist, her spine arched, her tits jiggling every time she bobs her head.

Her mouth is a pit of fire every time she rolls it down.

I could make her choke on my release, but her pleasure is so addictive I don’t want to put an end to it so soon.

Her mouth waters around my cock, and mine waters as I’m looking at the flesh between her legs.

The smell of her arousal drifts in the air, and after spending a little more time lodging myself in the back of her throat and watching her sweat and get her lips wet around me, I pull out, slide my arm under her legs, and toss her on her back, her shoulders pressed to the pillows, her hands under her.

She lifts her head to watch me spread her legs and lick her pussy while draping her thighs over my shoulders.

She looks like a wild goddess now, with her hair a whirlpool of silk, her eyes burning like embers, her lips glistening as if coated with tears, and a smile of satisfaction on her face.

She better trust me from now on when I tell her she’ll like the stuff I want to do to her.

I know who she is.

I knew it from the moment she sat on my lap.

From the second I took a whiff of the scent of her skin.

From the little snap in her voice.

She’s done everything right, this woman, but somehow things didn’t quite work for her.

Isn’t that the story of our lives?

No matter what you do, you always seem to get the short end of the stick?

She wants to please me, but above all she wants me to please her and help her forget who she is so she can reinvent herself, if only for a moment.

She pushes up a little more, and I take that freedom away from her, sliding her off the pillow, dragging her pussy to the edge of the bed, and pinning her down so she can only feel me and not see much of me.

She gives up.

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