Page 54 of My Turn Petal
He rolls up the sleeves of his button-up shirt after he ditches his jacket.
Chest to chest, I wrap my leg around his hip through the slit of my maxi-dress, letting him drag me on one leg and pirouetting me around myself for a few rounds, he catches me as I descend from another hoist in the air as he puts me down.
I move behind him, letting my hands roam along his chest and down to his waist. As I graze the fabric inside his pocket, I feel the head of his thick cock poking me.
“That’s my cock, petal, are you having fun?” he whispers, slanting his jaw.
“Very,” I giggle, “And your cock is having fun too.”
Holy double shit!
He feels so big and I only touch the top part of him.
He flips us, pulls my throat backward, and pretends to thrust my backside—each move is so erotic my body is about to explode.
Grabbing my hips, he spins around me, until he faces me and grinds his pelvis to my front. “Hold on to my neck.” He pulls me to straddle his waist while he whirls us to the fading beat.
Every time his sensual touch encounters my body, he can orchestrate such lively responses out of me.
Fuck. That was fucking incredible.
There’s a wild chance my sticky panties are tainting his suit right this second.
My blazing gaze meets his, our chests galloping from that erotic experience, and the fact we know how much we crave each other.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?” I pant although he did most of the job and I was a noddle he could bend, shape, and twist to his need.
“I need to dissect the question into two parts.” He replies.
“What is the first part?”
His strong muscular arms are still holding my thighs to his hips while mine are looped around his neck. “Half of it I learned from my mom, she’s a dancer. She’s been teaching for the last two decades. She used to sneak me into her classes and let me practice with her students.” He nuzzles his nose in mine.
The low golden flares of lights cast a warm tint on his tanned complexion.
He puts me down, “Now excuse me, I am going to kill him.” His body slowly stripping away from me.
I pull his hips back to my front, “Before you do, can you tell me the second part?” My lips brush against the stubble on his chin.
“You are very distracting,” his warm breath fans my face.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“You’re so busy.”
“I won’t release you until you tell me,” I declare.
“I don’t think my legs will budge either way.”
The corner of my mouth tugs up, “You’re stalling.”
“I’m easing my way.” He comments in his soft deep voice.
“No need, you can tell me anything.”
“That sure, huh?”
“Come on, Roberts, you can do it.” I press him because I’m fucking curious.
