Page 16 of Slippery When Wet

I eye her curiously. “What exactly are you having for breakfast?”

Karalyn’s full lips curve in a devilish smile. “You.”

At that very moment, everything inside of me heats with desire and want and need. I am too weak with lust to turn down the invitation. I go and shower, anticipation coursing through my veins.

• • •

My mouth waters and my pussy tightens as Karalyn saunters over toward me carrying a large, white ceramic bowl filled with sliced mango, peaches; huge, mouthwatering strawberries; pineapple wedges; and, huge market-fresh cherries in one hand. And a bottle of Dom Pérignon in her other. Then she goes back to the counter and retrieves two other smaller bowls, then ambles back over to me.

I am propped up on the counter, a towel beneath me, my legs spread wide. I am eager and ready. Karalyn sets the bowl of fruit and champagne down beside me. She grins down at me. “You’re beautiful. I’ve been starving for you all week.”

I attempt to say something, blushing. But the thoughts in my head become jumbled words; incoherent sentences the minute she steps in closer and her mouth is on mine, her tongue searching. She tastes like champagne and chocolate. Sweet and intoxicating.

She steps back, her gaze full of lust and heated promise. “I’m so hungry.”

“What are you hungry for?” I whisper, my lips quivering.

Her finger traces the slit of my pussy. “You.”

I gasp. Every nerve ending in my body comes alive to her touch. Again, no man has ever made me feel this kind of energy, this kind of want.

“Open your mouth.”

I lick my lips, then slowly open my mouth. She rubs the juicy flesh of a mango slice across my lips. I flick my tongue out to taste it, and she pulls back teasing me. She slides it over my nipples, then brings it back up to my lips. She slides her fingers and the fruit into my mouth. I curl my tongue, licking and swirling it around and around the fruit, pretending it’s her clit. Wishing it was her clit. Sensual heat ripples through me at the thought of having her pussy pressed against my lips, my own greedy tongue eager to tease and taste her. I suck in the mango, then chew, savoring its sweet, sticky juice.

Kara presses her lips to mine, slipping her tongue into my mouth. Her hand covers my pussy. In seconds, two fingers plunge into thick wetness to find the swell of my spot. I gasp, breathless.

“OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod,” is all I mutter as pleasure ignites every fiber of my body and places me on the edge of ecstasy. Kara pushes her three fingers into me until they can’t go any deeper. The rhythm of her probing fingers coaxing me toward climax. “Oh please…mmmph…ooh…”

“?‘Oh please’, what? What do you want, Ava?”

“Uhh…your tongue.”

“Where?” She nips at the lobe of my ear. The heat from her breath causes my cunt to clench. A wave of carnal need slams me, hard.

“Uhh…mmmm…”

“Tell me where, Ava. Where do you want my tongue?”

“On my pussy, my clit. Uhhh…”

She kisses her way down to my taut nipple, drawing it into her mouth, sucking and licking it until I am panting. I roll my hips, meeting her hand, clenching the fingers fucking me good. A river of pleasure flows out of my pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet, Ava,” Kara says, gazing into my eyes before lowering her head between my thighs to tongue my clit and suck it into her mouth. I surprise myself, screaming out her name as my orgasm rushes out onto her tongue. She keeps her mouth covering my slit, sucking and lapping out the rest of my climax. Finally, she lifts her head and kisses me, letting me taste my own sweet need.

Oh, God! My whole body aches with want, with desire. I don’t know how much more of this tongue and finger dance I can take.

“We’re not done,” she murmurs between kisses. “We have a whole bowl of fruit to be eaten. And I will not stop until we have devoured every piece.”

Next she feeds me a strawberry. I bite into it, savoring its tart juice. She pulls it away. Slides the half-bitten piece of wet fruit along my collarbone, the center of my chest, then over my nipples. I can already feel another patch of slick moisture between my legs as my body tingles with excitement. My areolas thicken with want—for her tongue, her mouth, to suckle, to nibble, to lick. I am drowning in the sensation, flooding in aching need.

I reach for her, try to push her head down between my legs…

“Lick my pussy,” I beg. I am more desperate than ever for release. I lift my hips off the counter. “Mmm…eat my pussy.”

Karalyn grins. “Not yet.” She reaches for the bottle and slowly begins to pour champagne down my collarbone, over my breasts, dribbling the cold bubbly over my hard nipples.

I gasp at the cold sensation, then moan when her warm mouth wraps around my right nipple, then my left. Her wet tongue slides over my skin, licking and lapping up every drop of champagne from my skin. Then she reaches for a pineapple, squeezes it in her hand and drips its juice over my lips, then my nipples, before gliding it over my clit.

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