Wine, Tarts, & Sex by Susan Johnson

baffling doubts. Abruptly dipping his head, he opened her dewy cleft with his fingertips and ran his tongue up her slick tissue with delicacy and finesse, with perfect GPS know-how in terms of nerve locations. He could have been thoughtfully arranging a fantasy dessert to best effect, so exacting was the placement of his tongue and fingers. As though he knew to perfection how to turn her on—or maybe the scores of women before her had been a universal sisterhood when it came to getting off this way.

    In due course, when her labia—major and minor—had been excited to a frenzied nicety, he turned his attention to her clit, and if being out of control had once been an issue, it no longer was.

    Complete and absolute sensation took precedence.

    Carte blanche, as it were, on the road to ecstasy.

    For the next blissful interval only Liv’s breathy moans and orgasmic cries punctuated the silence of the loft. Jake deftly brought her to climax once, then twice, and lifting his head slightly, he paused, waiting for some cue about a possible third time.

    Stabbing her fingers through his thick hair, she jerked his head back.

    Definitely a cue. He got back down to business.

    And Liv gave herself up to raw, over-the-edge, soul-stirring rapture that insinuated itself into every sensitive, greedy nook and cranny, every rapt nerve and throbbing bit of flesh previously unaccustomed to such neon-lit carnal splendor.

    Not that she was currently in the right frame of mind to consider that past discrepancy.

    For his part, Jake found Liv’s total abandon appealing. That she was completely genuine in a world given increasingly to spin and pretense held a distinctly down-home charm. Or perhaps it was disarming only in contrast to his glitterati world where poseurs were the norm.

    Not that any of his philosophical reflections were relevant up against his increasing randiness. And just as soon as darling Livvi came again, he was going to replace his tongue with his cock and blast off.

    “Oh God, oh God, oh God—oh God,” she panted.

    Perfect timing, he thought, gently sucking her clit as her third orgasm ripped through her vagina. She was definitely on some kind of hair trigger. Not that he was complaining when it would soon be his turn. Although he knew better than to stop what he was doing until her last little sigh died away. Even then, he gave her time to return to the real world before easing back and resting on his elbows.

    “You’re way too good,” she breathed, glancing down at him from under her lashes. “I’m writing off Shelly tonight.”

    He liked that she didn’t ask. He particularly liked that her plans matched his. He’d written off Shelly a long time ago. “I was hoping you’d stay,” he said with a smile, “seeing how it’s my turn now.”

    “Definitely. After that last glorious orgasm, I owe you. Any special instructions?” she waggishly inquired.

    “In my current purist frame of mind,” he murmured, coming up on his knees and reaching for a condom, “all I want is the feel of your hot cunt closing around my cock. Say a couple hundred times.”

    She gave him a sunny smile. “I’m really, really glad I stopped by.”

    He glanced up as he ripped open a foil packet, a smile slowly forming on his finely modeled mouth. “Believe me, I couldn’t have asked for a better wine merchant. ” He unrolled the condom over his throbbing cock, snapped it in place, and, placing the flat of his hands on either side of her arms, smoothly dropped between her widespread legs.

    It was a seriously unforgettable sensation, he decided a moment later, as he glided inside her soft, slick warmth, her cunt’s tightness conforming to his hard-on with a highly provocative, all-absorbing reluctance. His toes curled, a thin film of sweat appeared on his forehead, and only with sheer will did he resist his body’s inclination to enter her at ramming speed. But by the end, he was champing at the bit, more impatient than