Page 79 of Revelation

The second Kat and I are alone in the bedroom with the door closed behind us, I fucking attack her. “Oh my God,” I murmur into her lips. Jesus God, I’m drowning in her—losing my equilibrium. The smell of her. The taste of her lips. I’d forgotten how addicting she is. My dick hurts. My heart is racing. I want her so bad, I’m in pain. I’mdying to taste her pussy on my tongue, feel her tight wetness surrounding my cock, hear her make the sound like I’ve pricked her ass with a long needle. “Oh my God, Kat. I’ve missed you, babe.”

“I’m not Kat—I’m a hooker from The Club,” she breathes into my lips, but it’s clear she’s so turned on, she can barely stand.

I begin unbuttoning her dress, but my fingers aren’t functioning. “I’ll call you whatever you want, just as long as I’m saying it while fucking you.”

“What about Bridgette?”

“Fuck Bridgette. I don’t want her. I want you.”

“No, I mean—”

But I devour her lips and she shuts the fuck up.

I’ve finally got her dress unbuttoned, thank God, and I pull it down past her hips to the floor, sliding my palms along her bare skin as I push the fabric down—and the sexy sight that unexpectedly greets me makes my cock jolt: Kat’s wearing a full get-up of centerfold-worthy, sheer lingerie—a push-up bra, crotchless panties, and a garter belt that skims her flat belly just below her belly ring—all of it the shade of the ocean in Tahiti.

“Incredible,” I murmur, assessing the fantastical vision in front of me. “Nowthat’sa high-priced call-girl, baby.”

She squeals with excitement and snaps her garter belt against her hip. “You like?”

“Fuck yeah, I do—I...” I clamp my lips together. I was about to say, “Fuck yeah, Iloveit.” But using that four-letter word in any context, even regarding something as harmless as Kat’s lingerie, suddenly feels clunky in my mouth. “It’s incredible,” I say.

I unlatch Kat’s stockings from her garter belt and kneel before her, slowly peeling them down her legs, kissing each inch of newly revealed flesh as I go, swirling my tongue around the smooth skin of her thighs and then working my way up to her hips, her belly, her piercing, each flicker of my tongue and kiss of my lips eliciting moans of pleasure and knee-buckles from her.

After several minutes, I brush my fingertips over the gap in her crotchless panties, and my fingers come back slick with her wetness.

“You’re so wet for me,” I breathe.

“I’ve been wet for you all week,” she whispers. “I’ve been dying for you.”

I lean in and suck on her clit and her knees buckle sharply. She grips my hair to steady herself, and I take that as my cue to penetrate her deeply with my tongue.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, running her fingers through my hair. “You’re soreallygood at this.”

Her knees buckle again and then again, until she loses complete balance—so I rise, take her by the hand, lead her to the bed, and lay her down on her back. She’s trembling with desire, physically twitching with yearning. Her blues eyes are on fire.

Slowly, I take off my jacket.

“Oh God,” she breathes. She reaches down to touch herself for a brief moment but quickly pulls her hand away, her body visibly shaking.

“Don’t stop,” I order. “Keep touching yourself.”

“But I’m gonna make myself come. I’m almost there.”

“Do it.”

She complies, her eyes like hot coals as her fingers work her clit.

I slowly remove my tie, watching her.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, her hand between her legs.

I peel off my shirt and she gasps at the sight of me.

“I forgot how hot you are,” she says. “Oh myGod.”

I rip off my briefs, letting my cock spring free, and crawl onto the bed next to her.

I press my skin against hers, jutting my hard-on into her hip. “Make yourself come while I watch you.”

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