a capful. Then he took the cap and poured its contents into my navel.
Oh. I was intrigued. I’d never done anything like this before and had certainly never written about it. And it cooled me off, just that little bit of liquor. It might have been hot outside and even down to my core, but I was aware now of the bit of cool breeze coming from his air conditioner, located God knew where in his apartment, and my nipples doubled in hardness. They ached for his touch now more than ever.
He grabbed my thigh with one hand as the other hand touched my side just below my breast. He leaned over then and took my nipple in his mouth, and the touch elicited a groan from the depths of my throat. I hadn’t wanted to seem impatient but I was, and I started to arch my back. But then I felt a trickle of rum make its way down the side of my belly and I forced myself back down to the table. I wrapped my hands around his neck, making my fingers relax so I wouldn’t dig into him with my nails, and sucked down a breath of air.
God, I just knew I was going to come the second his cock touched me. I was beyond aroused, every nerve, every fiber of my body tight and primed. His hand brushed over my pussy, tickling the trimmed hairs there, as he brought it up to my belly, then over my ribs, and up to my neglected breast. I couldn’t help but notice the way my pussy had responded to his brush past it, because it was tighter than ever. It was aching for him, and I wondered when I would feel some relief.
He caressed that breast so tenderly, his thumb teasing the nipple, and I let out another breath of air. I couldn’t take it much longer. He brought his mouth to my belly and licked the line of spilled coconut rum. Because it had run down my side, his tongue almost tickled as it began its journey, but by the time it reached my navel, it was all hot. Then he licked around my navel and sipped at the rum, drawing it into his mouth. Finally, when he had sucked it all out, he licked until every sticky drop was out and I was aching. It didn’t hurt that one of his hands was still teasing my nipple.
“Oh, Jesus,” I cried, unable to keep silent anymore.
I felt his breath against the sensitive flesh on my belly as he let out what I assumed was a chuckle at my growing impatience. He kissed down my belly to the top of my thigh, moving his hands to the top of both legs. I heard chair legs scoot a few inches on the floor, and that was when I realized he wasn’t going to fuck me. Not yet. But what he had in mind was just fine by me.
I shouldn’t have been as relaxed as I was. After all, I was completely naked, sprawled out on his table, and his kitchen was bright. His shirt was off but he was otherwise fully clothed. I should have felt uncomfortable. But I didn’t. I was hot and bothered and couldn’t wait for—
Oh, God, there it was. The stroke of his tongue. It had been a long time since I’d been with a man who knew what to do with his tongue. Oh, sure, Ridley had tried, but I could tell that he just wasn’t into it. Roman, though…I felt myself get wet all over again, just knowing that he didn’t mind taking care of me this way.
He wasn’t wasting any time, either, and his tongue painted my clit with one soft stroke after the other—firm without being rough. I let out a low moan, unable to stifle it, as I felt my muscles tighten, and I anticipated what was sure to be the best orgasm I’d have in months. Ridley was nice to look at and he could do the job, but he was no pro, even with my guidance. Yeah, he’d improved, but he had a long way to go.
Aw, why the hell did I have to think about Ridley? I felt my brain take over and suddenly it felt like there was no way an orgasm was going to happen. Not now, at any rate. I was getting ready to growl at Roman to tell him to give it to me with his cock when another stroke—this time harder—brought me back to the
Oh. I was intrigued. I’d never done anything like this before and had certainly never written about it. And it cooled me off, just that little bit of liquor. It might have been hot outside and even down to my core, but I was aware now of the bit of cool breeze coming from his air conditioner, located God knew where in his apartment, and my nipples doubled in hardness. They ached for his touch now more than ever.
He grabbed my thigh with one hand as the other hand touched my side just below my breast. He leaned over then and took my nipple in his mouth, and the touch elicited a groan from the depths of my throat. I hadn’t wanted to seem impatient but I was, and I started to arch my back. But then I felt a trickle of rum make its way down the side of my belly and I forced myself back down to the table. I wrapped my hands around his neck, making my fingers relax so I wouldn’t dig into him with my nails, and sucked down a breath of air.
God, I just knew I was going to come the second his cock touched me. I was beyond aroused, every nerve, every fiber of my body tight and primed. His hand brushed over my pussy, tickling the trimmed hairs there, as he brought it up to my belly, then over my ribs, and up to my neglected breast. I couldn’t help but notice the way my pussy had responded to his brush past it, because it was tighter than ever. It was aching for him, and I wondered when I would feel some relief.
He caressed that breast so tenderly, his thumb teasing the nipple, and I let out another breath of air. I couldn’t take it much longer. He brought his mouth to my belly and licked the line of spilled coconut rum. Because it had run down my side, his tongue almost tickled as it began its journey, but by the time it reached my navel, it was all hot. Then he licked around my navel and sipped at the rum, drawing it into his mouth. Finally, when he had sucked it all out, he licked until every sticky drop was out and I was aching. It didn’t hurt that one of his hands was still teasing my nipple.
“Oh, Jesus,” I cried, unable to keep silent anymore.
I felt his breath against the sensitive flesh on my belly as he let out what I assumed was a chuckle at my growing impatience. He kissed down my belly to the top of my thigh, moving his hands to the top of both legs. I heard chair legs scoot a few inches on the floor, and that was when I realized he wasn’t going to fuck me. Not yet. But what he had in mind was just fine by me.
I shouldn’t have been as relaxed as I was. After all, I was completely naked, sprawled out on his table, and his kitchen was bright. His shirt was off but he was otherwise fully clothed. I should have felt uncomfortable. But I didn’t. I was hot and bothered and couldn’t wait for—
Oh, God, there it was. The stroke of his tongue. It had been a long time since I’d been with a man who knew what to do with his tongue. Oh, sure, Ridley had tried, but I could tell that he just wasn’t into it. Roman, though…I felt myself get wet all over again, just knowing that he didn’t mind taking care of me this way.
He wasn’t wasting any time, either, and his tongue painted my clit with one soft stroke after the other—firm without being rough. I let out a low moan, unable to stifle it, as I felt my muscles tighten, and I anticipated what was sure to be the best orgasm I’d have in months. Ridley was nice to look at and he could do the job, but he was no pro, even with my guidance. Yeah, he’d improved, but he had a long way to go.
Aw, why the hell did I have to think about Ridley? I felt my brain take over and suddenly it felt like there was no way an orgasm was going to happen. Not now, at any rate. I was getting ready to growl at Roman to tell him to give it to me with his cock when another stroke—this time harder—brought me back to the
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