Page 39 of Factory Controller

A village woman leads Trent and me to one of the huts. Within we find bedding, a number of lit candles, and a reed mat meant to get us up off the ground. A layer of greenish brown needle-like leaves cover the floor.

“Did they forget to sweep up in here, or what?”

Trent chuckles. “Those leaves are abhorrent to most insects and spiders. They won’t come in here and bother us tonight.”

“Thank goodness. I’ve been crawled all over lately, and not in a good way.”

Trent laughs, and we settle into the reed mattress. On instinct I lay against him on my side, cradling my head on his shoulder.

“This is so much better than the mattress you made out of sticks.”

“Shut up,” Trent says with a laugh. “I did the best I could with what I had.”

He slides his palm along my side, then moves below my waist. My heart quickens its pace within my breast. He’s moving into the taboo zone now. Should I stop him?

I don’t want to. He smells so good after his bath. Looks good, too. Feels good…

Trent slides his hand between the folds of my red skirt. His fingers are electric as they caress my naked skin.

“Heather…” he whispers, turning his lips into my own and kissing me. I melt into his body, and decide I don’t want to deny myself any longer.

I want him bad.

HEATHER

Trent’s hand disappears under my skirt. I suck in a gasp of air as his fingers lightly brush between my legs. His touch grows firmer, more confident in its exploration. The air fills with the scent of my arousal. I lay there on the mattress, cradled in his other arm as he sensuously pokes through my short, golden curls.

“Heather,” he whispers in my ear. I shudder as he puts his lips on my neck and shoulder. I roll toward him, wrapping him in my arms. Our lips meet in a deep, wet kiss that has me gasping almost as much as his busy fingers.

Little grunts and moans escape both our mouths as we clutch together on the mattress. Trent moves his kisses lower, across my bust, and down further still. My mouth flies open as he kisses his destination.

“The noise,” I whisper. “The noise, Trent.”

“Relax. We’re not the only ones making love in the village tonight.”

Then he buries his face in my crotch. I cry out, my hand reflexively going to the back of his head as his tongue plies itself across my swollen mound.

My heartbeat thumps in my ears as he gives himself fully to his task. Trent suckles and makes delighted sounds as if eating me was the most enjoyable thing in the world for him.

He lifts his head from his task for a moment, though his fingers play with my soft flesh to keep me going.

“You taste so good, Heather.”

Then he dives back in, and a sharp cry forces its way out of my throat as he finally pushes me over the edge. I think that’s the end of it, but I’m wrong. He keeps going, driving me to new heights again, and then again.

My nails rake across the homespun blankets as his tongue probes into me. I easily take two of his thick fingers into me and cry out sharply as he starts thrusting them in firm, deep strokes. It only makes me more eager for what’s to come.

When my legs stop shaking, I feel positively voracious. I want more, I want all of him.

Reaching up, I take his shaft in my hand. My fingers wrap around his throbbing, stiff rod. Rolling my eyes up to meet his gaze, I extend my tongue and lick the crown from the bottom, up through his seam, and then loop it around in circles. Trent’s face contorts with ecstasy.

I cradle his balls with one hand while I continue to stroke his rod with the other. My mouth is all over his skin, kissing and licking and occasionally taking the crown all the way inside. Most of the time I keep my gaze firmly locked on his face, showing him that he’s absolutely being paid attention to.

Bit by bit, I take more of him inside my mouth. I gag a bit when his bulbous head hits the back of my throat, but I keep him inside my mouth all the same.

With an animalistic growl, Trent grabs handfuls of my hair and takes over guiding my mouth up and down. I submit to his desires, letting him be in control. His head flies backward, and he lets out a long, shuddering groan and releases his seed into my mouth.

The look on Trent’s face is priceless. He looks down at me as if I were something out of a dream, a fantasy come to life. I love turning him on like this. It’s only fair, since just looking at his sweaty, muscular body during our trek through the rainforest led to my growing wet with more than simple sweat.

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