fingers.
“I dreamed of you. Every night since I last saw you I’ve dreamt of you. Dreamt of touching you and having you beneath me.” Even the weeks he’d been in a coma he’d dreamed of her.
Her eyelids fluttered open. A few of the shadows had left. “I dreamed of you.”
The words whispered like a caress. Her quaking hand, as she raised it and rested it on his cheek, was a billowing breeze which buoyed his hopes.
With a low moan, he dropped his head and pulled a nipple into his mouth. Laving her with caresses, relishing in the feel of her hands exploring him, her fingers working his shirt buttons free, Trevor delighted in banishing the remaining shadows from her eyes. From her soul.
He explored her breasts, her tight abs, her belly button and all the skin between. On his journey back up toward her neck he noticed a narrow pucker of skin about an inch long that hadn’t been there before. Tracing the new scar first with his tongue and then with a finger he met her steady gaze.
“What happened?”
“A knife.” There was more to it, according to the vague tidbits Breck had shared, but the soft finality in her tone said not to ask for more. He wouldn’t. She would tell him when she was ready, about the scar, the captivity and her past.
With another kiss to the pink line, he continued down her body, removing her slacks and boy-short panties. He left her strappy heels on. Some fantasies never got old.
With her naked before him, knowing he wouldn’t maintain control if he joined her on the sofa, Trevor repositioned her so she was slouched into the couch with her hips resting at the edge. He knelt between her spread legs and fingered her neatly trimmed pussy.
“You’re gorgeous.” Staring into her eyes he willed her to believe him. “With your hair messed up and dark against your flushed skin.”
He glided his hands along her trim thighs and around to the tender backs of her knees. “I love having you spread out before me.” He kissed the inside of her left thigh. “Ready to be sampled.” Then the right.
“Eager and willing.” He kissed higher up and on the left again. “Open for whatever I may do.” Then higher still on the right. Back and forth, left and right, higher and higher he edged closer and closer to her swollen sex.
“Trevor.” She pleaded with him and shifted side to side, up and down, maneuvering for a better position.
When he finally reached her mound, with his cock straining against his zipper and his body bellowing for completion, he only swiped the tip of his tongue along her pink folds before breaking contact.
Lori cried out and strained upward. Instead of fulfilling her request immediately he waited until she’d relaxed back against the sofa, only wiggling slightly as her body hadn’t fully settled.
Bending, he again eased the tip of his tongue up, pressing a tad deeper than the last time. Again she bucked up and again he retreated until she’d calmed.
Rapture wrapped around his spine, gripping tighter with each slip of his tongue along her weeping sex. Patient and persistent he continued the routine until Lori could hardly relax between licks and his own blood throbbed within constricting veins and skin.
She’d always been a responsive lover and though they hadn’t always rushed to the finish line he’d never taken so long to please her. Tonight’s lovemaking was a slow dance he hungered to draw out.
Their breaths clashed in gasps of impassioned desperation when, unable to resist a moment longer, he pulled the nub of her clit between his teeth and gently nipped at her. She screamed, buried her hands in his hair and pulled him close.
He nibbled and suckled on her, driving her nearer the edge of release. Just as her quivers amassed into an almost constant stream—and him along with her—he shifted from her clit to her pussy and drove her up again.
Her fists yanked at chunks of his hair. She arched off the couch and with another scream vibrating out of her and
“I dreamed of you. Every night since I last saw you I’ve dreamt of you. Dreamt of touching you and having you beneath me.” Even the weeks he’d been in a coma he’d dreamed of her.
Her eyelids fluttered open. A few of the shadows had left. “I dreamed of you.”
The words whispered like a caress. Her quaking hand, as she raised it and rested it on his cheek, was a billowing breeze which buoyed his hopes.
With a low moan, he dropped his head and pulled a nipple into his mouth. Laving her with caresses, relishing in the feel of her hands exploring him, her fingers working his shirt buttons free, Trevor delighted in banishing the remaining shadows from her eyes. From her soul.
He explored her breasts, her tight abs, her belly button and all the skin between. On his journey back up toward her neck he noticed a narrow pucker of skin about an inch long that hadn’t been there before. Tracing the new scar first with his tongue and then with a finger he met her steady gaze.
“What happened?”
“A knife.” There was more to it, according to the vague tidbits Breck had shared, but the soft finality in her tone said not to ask for more. He wouldn’t. She would tell him when she was ready, about the scar, the captivity and her past.
With another kiss to the pink line, he continued down her body, removing her slacks and boy-short panties. He left her strappy heels on. Some fantasies never got old.
With her naked before him, knowing he wouldn’t maintain control if he joined her on the sofa, Trevor repositioned her so she was slouched into the couch with her hips resting at the edge. He knelt between her spread legs and fingered her neatly trimmed pussy.
“You’re gorgeous.” Staring into her eyes he willed her to believe him. “With your hair messed up and dark against your flushed skin.”
He glided his hands along her trim thighs and around to the tender backs of her knees. “I love having you spread out before me.” He kissed the inside of her left thigh. “Ready to be sampled.” Then the right.
“Eager and willing.” He kissed higher up and on the left again. “Open for whatever I may do.” Then higher still on the right. Back and forth, left and right, higher and higher he edged closer and closer to her swollen sex.
“Trevor.” She pleaded with him and shifted side to side, up and down, maneuvering for a better position.
When he finally reached her mound, with his cock straining against his zipper and his body bellowing for completion, he only swiped the tip of his tongue along her pink folds before breaking contact.
Lori cried out and strained upward. Instead of fulfilling her request immediately he waited until she’d relaxed back against the sofa, only wiggling slightly as her body hadn’t fully settled.
Bending, he again eased the tip of his tongue up, pressing a tad deeper than the last time. Again she bucked up and again he retreated until she’d calmed.
Rapture wrapped around his spine, gripping tighter with each slip of his tongue along her weeping sex. Patient and persistent he continued the routine until Lori could hardly relax between licks and his own blood throbbed within constricting veins and skin.
She’d always been a responsive lover and though they hadn’t always rushed to the finish line he’d never taken so long to please her. Tonight’s lovemaking was a slow dance he hungered to draw out.
Their breaths clashed in gasps of impassioned desperation when, unable to resist a moment longer, he pulled the nub of her clit between his teeth and gently nipped at her. She screamed, buried her hands in his hair and pulled him close.
He nibbled and suckled on her, driving her nearer the edge of release. Just as her quivers amassed into an almost constant stream—and him along with her—he shifted from her clit to her pussy and drove her up again.
Her fists yanked at chunks of his hair. She arched off the couch and with another scream vibrating out of her and
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