Waiting For The Other Shoe to Drop: Part 27
How and
when we made it into his place is still kind of foggy to me. But in a flash, I
was pressed against the ivory wall of his foyer with my legs wrapped around his
waist and my lips kissing mine. Our tongues danced as his hands squeezed and
massaged my breasts. I wanted him so bad that it hurt. My legs quivered and I
wanted this sensual torture to end. Reaching down, I stroked his hardness through
his pants. He moaned and I stroked faster. His mouth opened and the heat from
his from his breath added to the lustful inferno raging in my body. I struggled
to unsnap his pants and was grateful for his assistance and the strength he had
to keep me up right. David’s thighs looked as if they’d been cut from the
finest marble. And that throbbing erection peeking through his silk boxers, the
Statue of David should be jealous. When he caught my glance, he smiled. “See
something you like?”
Smart ass.
“Let me
show you how much I like it,” I said as I unfurled my legs from around him and
dropped to my knees. I gripped his shaft and ran my tongue up and down the length
of his cock. My mouth watered as I took him deep inside. David howled and
gripped my neck. I sucked harder, massaging his balls as my tongue tickled and
teased the tip of his dick. Deeper. His moans grew louder and louder. Then I
dipped down and rained kisses on his balls and felt his knees quake. Gentle
sucks, his dick got harder and he murmured something in Spanish, French or Lust
as he grabbed my shoulders. I returned my hot mouth to his dick, savoring the
taste of his pre-come and the power I had over this man. This man who had
tortured my dreams and my body with his tongue. Talk about instant karma. David
shivered. I felt his body go tense. He pulled back from me, shaking his head. “I
want to come inside you and if you touch me with those lips one more time, it’s
going to be a wrap.” He scooped me up and dashed up the stairs to his bedroom.
Inside, he laid me against the soft down comforter covering his king size bed.
David spread my legs apart and strummed the wet folds of flesh between my thighs.
I began to understand why Toni Braxton sang about a Spanish Guitar. I doubt the
sounds coming from me were lyrical or coherent, but what I felt was amazingly
delicious.
When
David rolled that condom on his hardness, I don’t know but the moment his
fingers stopped strumming and I felt his dick split me open, my mind drew a
huge blank. He led me in this erotic dance; I kept pace with his thrusts, his strokes
and ground against him until my passion spilled down my thighs.
“Look at
me,” he commanded in a gentle growl. “Look at me.”
I opened
my eyes, looked into his whisky brown ones. Could he see through to my soul?
Did he understand what was happening to my body as he thrust in and out?
Trembling, shaking, this was the biggest orgasm I’d ever had with my eyes open.
And we weren’t even done yet.
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