Another Man's Woman (Late Night Delight) by Jennifer Willows Page B
Authors: Jennifer Willows
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flutter of touches and skimmed his hands to her undulating snatch.
He was far from gentle as he slid two fingers inside her pussy, felt each ripple of sex from the fount of desire. The digits dug as deeply as their length would allow, then retreated back the way he came until he reached her G-spot. The spongy area was firm beneath his fingers, and he rubbed a tight circle with his fingertips. The stimuli quickly forced the gland to swell beneath his gentle prods and barely there caresses before he gave her a minute amount of pressure. He kept the compression steady, and slowly pressed harder until he saw she could feel the unusually directed sensations. Her body seized and a low groan was jackknifed from her throat before she cried his name. The sound gave him bliss unlike any one before her could have, satisfied him in a way that no one else could emulated.
When she was close to combustion he lowered his lips to her gushing fountain to meet rocking hips. It was as if she wanted to seek him, but she was too keyed up to succeed. Dominic licked the bare slit and let her shake until she had no choice but to beg him for more.
She was a mass of need. He could see her quiver uncontrollably before she relented and gave in to her orgasm.
“Do that for me again and I’ll give you something to scream about.” He lowered his mouth back to her gooey slit and licked over her in thick laps of his tongue.
He kept the pressure on her spongy spot only relenting to suckle her clit harder. He set a demanding rhythm, suckled, then pressed, licked and nursed her until she writhed in sensual agony. He knew she was going to explode, but when she did even he was surprised by the vehemence of the orgasm. Dominic had just pressed her spot and hooked his fingers just above the G-spot mass. His mouth slurped the juices that ran from her vulva like water then went back to the erect nerve laden nubbin to spark another river of nectar for him to sample. She was akin to intoxication and her arousal had varying vintages, all guaranteed to render him drunk and dumb. The first sample of her pussy was similar to a blush wine, floral, fruity and feminine. The closer she came to orgasm, the stronger her flavor became, until that pivotal moment when the aroma of her arousal burned to the gut like whisky and she had no choice but to cash in her pleasure or burst. It was in that moment that he knew she was his. There was no argument he would let her present, no diatribe she could spout, and no fight he would allow her to win. Not when it came to this.
She squealed until her voice was small and only a minute hum emitted from her lips to signal the veracity of her impending orgasm. Only this time when she came instead of a trickle from her fountain of joy, she gushed sweet, wild and wet. The orgasm was so strong he could feel the silken secretions drip from the past five o’clock shadow he sported as he was too lazy to shave before or after his shower. The thought of his scruffy face made him look south and he saw where his beard burned her thighs. The mild abrasions mollified him enough that his throbbing cock no longer mattered, the fact that he waited five years this moment no longer mattered, nothing mattered but them together in all the ways that their bodies, minds and hearts allowed.
He stood up and kissed her gently, shared the taste of her via his oral tease and parry of tongues. Nicolette was preoccupied with coming back to reality while he prepared a bowl of strawberries. He sat the fruit down on the table and smiled at her still quivering frame. She was dithered when he leaned over and slung her over his shoulder.
“Nicolette, pick the bowl up for me.” She did and giggled.
When he passed the hall mirror he chuckled too. He looked like a greedy caveman, with a woman slung over one shoulder struggling to hang onto a bowl of strawberries. He took her up stairs as she laughed the
He was far from gentle as he slid two fingers inside her pussy, felt each ripple of sex from the fount of desire. The digits dug as deeply as their length would allow, then retreated back the way he came until he reached her G-spot. The spongy area was firm beneath his fingers, and he rubbed a tight circle with his fingertips. The stimuli quickly forced the gland to swell beneath his gentle prods and barely there caresses before he gave her a minute amount of pressure. He kept the compression steady, and slowly pressed harder until he saw she could feel the unusually directed sensations. Her body seized and a low groan was jackknifed from her throat before she cried his name. The sound gave him bliss unlike any one before her could have, satisfied him in a way that no one else could emulated.
When she was close to combustion he lowered his lips to her gushing fountain to meet rocking hips. It was as if she wanted to seek him, but she was too keyed up to succeed. Dominic licked the bare slit and let her shake until she had no choice but to beg him for more.
She was a mass of need. He could see her quiver uncontrollably before she relented and gave in to her orgasm.
“Do that for me again and I’ll give you something to scream about.” He lowered his mouth back to her gooey slit and licked over her in thick laps of his tongue.
He kept the pressure on her spongy spot only relenting to suckle her clit harder. He set a demanding rhythm, suckled, then pressed, licked and nursed her until she writhed in sensual agony. He knew she was going to explode, but when she did even he was surprised by the vehemence of the orgasm. Dominic had just pressed her spot and hooked his fingers just above the G-spot mass. His mouth slurped the juices that ran from her vulva like water then went back to the erect nerve laden nubbin to spark another river of nectar for him to sample. She was akin to intoxication and her arousal had varying vintages, all guaranteed to render him drunk and dumb. The first sample of her pussy was similar to a blush wine, floral, fruity and feminine. The closer she came to orgasm, the stronger her flavor became, until that pivotal moment when the aroma of her arousal burned to the gut like whisky and she had no choice but to cash in her pleasure or burst. It was in that moment that he knew she was his. There was no argument he would let her present, no diatribe she could spout, and no fight he would allow her to win. Not when it came to this.
She squealed until her voice was small and only a minute hum emitted from her lips to signal the veracity of her impending orgasm. Only this time when she came instead of a trickle from her fountain of joy, she gushed sweet, wild and wet. The orgasm was so strong he could feel the silken secretions drip from the past five o’clock shadow he sported as he was too lazy to shave before or after his shower. The thought of his scruffy face made him look south and he saw where his beard burned her thighs. The mild abrasions mollified him enough that his throbbing cock no longer mattered, the fact that he waited five years this moment no longer mattered, nothing mattered but them together in all the ways that their bodies, minds and hearts allowed.
He stood up and kissed her gently, shared the taste of her via his oral tease and parry of tongues. Nicolette was preoccupied with coming back to reality while he prepared a bowl of strawberries. He sat the fruit down on the table and smiled at her still quivering frame. She was dithered when he leaned over and slung her over his shoulder.
“Nicolette, pick the bowl up for me.” She did and giggled.
When he passed the hall mirror he chuckled too. He looked like a greedy caveman, with a woman slung over one shoulder struggling to hang onto a bowl of strawberries. He took her up stairs as she laughed the
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