Page 36 of Corkscrew You
We kiss deep and slow, her body melding into mine, her hands around my neck so she can pull my mouth down onto hers. My own hands are cupping her rear, both to lift her further up—she’s nine inches short of my six-foot-one—and to keep her tight against me. And I wasn’t imagining it the other night. She’s humming like a horny swarm of bees, and it’s the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard.
My cock is insanely hard, and the pressure of her soft, warm body is almost too much for its tiny non-brain to handle. But I refuse to rush this. I want to explore every freckled naked inch of her, from top to toe and all zones in between. My cock can wait in line behind my tongue, mouth and hands. It’ll get its turn.
OK, seems my desire not to rush isn’t mutual. With magician-like deftness, Shelby’s undone my belt and zipper. Now her hand is inside my pants, and my cock is straining toward her fingers, like a divining rod. I can’t let her get a hold. I don’t trust thefils de puteto show any restraint.
I grab her wrist. “Not yet.”
“Whynot?” she says, breathlessly. “I want you inside me sobad.”
Bordel de merde, that doesnothelp.
“It’ll happen,” I say. “But let’s just … work up to it.”
She frees her hand and slips it under my shirt, causing my ab muscles to have a minor conniption.
“You feel so good,” she murmurs. “Can I at least get you naked?”
“That I have no problem with,” I reply.
And we do our best to rip each other’s clothes off before sheer practicality intervenes, and we focus on stripping ourselves.
There we are, naked as jaybirds, andnom de Dieu, she’s perfection. Sugar dusted skin, copper lights in her hair, and the soft, full roundness of her breasts and ass.
I wonder how she sees me, if I match up to her expectations. Her amazing blue-green eyes are all drowsy with desire, so I guess I’ll take that as a positive sign. I want to satisfy her to the hilt and beyond. I want to make her soar.
We’re on the bed now, and she’s pulling me down, arching into me. It’s all I can do not to give up and slide right on in. Instead, I maneuver down the bed, kissing her warm skin all the way until I’ve reached my destination.
As my tongue delves into her sweetness, her whole body goes taut, and the sex-bee chorus starts again. I have to reach down and give the base of my cock a threatening squeeze. Behave, yousalaud.
Her hands twine in my hair. I slide two fingers inside her and run my thumb up to where my tongue is, and back down. I hear her gasp, feel her buck beneath me. This is incredible but it’s also goddamn torture.
She tightens her hold on my hair, and whispers, “Nate, please. Get up here.”
Fuck it, I want to see her come. I want to be inside her, watching and feeling every second of her orgasm.
I wipe my mouth on the sheets and grab a condom from beside the bed. It better not be stubborn about rolling on. I have a moment here and I intend to seize it.
On. And Shelby has her hand around my cock, guiding me in, all the way in, and as we move together, her eyes widen with what I sincerely hope is pleasure.
“How can you feel soamazing?” she breathes. “Why is this sogood?”
I’m incapable of answering. I’m lost, drowning in her. I drop my mouth to her breasts, take her nipples gently, slip my thumb back down in between us, add its strokes to the movement of our bodies.
Her eyes close, her head tips back and she pushes against me harder, more urgently. I don’t want to blink in case I miss a moment.
And then I feel the heat radiating inside her, the sudden tautness in her body and I thrust faster, deeper, to send her over that edge. There. She shudders, gasps and clings to me as the orgasm rips through her.
My cock is gripped by pulse after pulse, and it’s a bonafide miracle that I don’t explode along with her. As she starts to relax, I slow my movements, gazing down on her, no doubt grinning like an idiot, until she opens her eyes again.
“Oh.” She pulls me down, kisses me hungrily, greedily. Murmurs against my mouth, “Oh, wow.”
It occurs to me that I am absurdly happy. Cock-a-hoop, as the saying goes.
But then Shelby frowns.
“You’re still—”
“What?” Do I want to know?
