Page 71 of The Art of Being Merry
“I’m only cold because you’re still dressed. What’s that about?”
Her words process slowly. I’m so fixated on her, homing in on every inch of her nakedness, the fact I’m still dressed doesn’t register immediately. When it does, I can’t get them off fast enough.
“Much better,” Clementine coos, nodding her approval. “Come, join me.” Her legs hide under the covers, but her torso is on full display, her breasts begging for attention. Except we have a time limit, and they may have to wait until next time.
Next time.
Will there be a next time?
Nope, can’t think like that. Gotta stay here in the present. If I only get her this once, I’m going to make it worth both our whiles, even if it’s quick.
I grab a condom from the nightstand drawer and rest next to her on the bed. “How ready are you?” I pose.
The vixen reaches under the covers and pulls out her fingers, glistening with moisture. “Will you judge me if I tell you I’ve been wet since you issued the words ‘same time tomorrow?’”
My cock stands at attention as I move the covers out of myway, positioning myself between her legs. “Judge you? Never. I’m gonna celebrate it.” As much as I want my cock to be buried inside her, I need a taste. I encourage her thighs wider and stare at her glistening pussy. It’s a sight.
In one lick, I sweep my tongue up her opening, appreciated by a drawn-out moan from Clementine.
“Do it again,” she says, nearly out of breath. Not to sound egotistical, but I’m patting myself on the back at her responsiveness.
“Picassa, I’m just getting started.”
“Hurry. I’m on the edge, and we don’t have all day. Especially since one isn’t going to nearly satisfy this beast.” I peek up from between her legs. She stares back at me, lust swimming in her green orbs.
“Patience.”
“Got none left. Need a release. I could help myself—” I catch her wrist as she tries to snake her hand down.
“Not. Happening.”
She smirks, the little vixen. “Good. Your tongue will be way better.”
To prove her right, I get to work, licking, sucking, nipping her most sensitive area. She gets wetter with each stroke of my tongue, and moans spill out of her mouth at a quick rate.
“Yes. Right there. Don’t stop. I’m close. So close. Don’t you dare stop what you’re doing. Dax, I mean it.”
I can’t be certain she knows what she’s saying, but I’m not a fool to quit.
My hands find her hips as my mouth assaults her, her taste sweet on my tongue. The perfect after-dinner dessert.
I swirl my tongue around her clit and lick up her slit, varying the speed and intensity. I can tell she’s close by the way she grinds against me. “Let go, Clementine,” I instruct.
“Ahhhhh.” Her cries fill my room, and her body lets go, wetness coating my tongue as it spills out of her. Lapping up every drop, I don’t want to miss an ounce of her sweetness.
When she’s done and I’ve cleaned her up, I quickly roll on a condom. My cock is steel, needing a release like I need air.
Her body boneless, Clementine lies on my bed, her eyes closedand her chest rising and falling erratically. I lean in for a kiss, stalling only when I realize she might not want that. Not all girls want to taste themselves.
Her green scrutiny reflects at me. “Kiss me.”
I raise a brow. “Yeah? Wasn’t sure you’d be into it.”
“Won’t know unless we try. If I don’t like it, we’ll stop.”
Her words slam into me. My torso rears back. “Wait, you’ve never done it?”
“Honestly, no one’s ever tried. I’ve never been curious enough to ask. Until now. Until you.”
