Key West Lacey Alexander (sad books to read .txt) 📖

Then he lowered his tongue by a few inches, just enough to sink it into her and get a warm taste.

“Oooh,” she moaned.

He smiled, studying his creation, and decided it needed a finishing touch. One more daisy. Scooping just a dab of yellow onto his fingertip, he made a delicate circle at the very top of her slit. Moving his finger round and round, he glanced up to find her watching closely, lips sensually parted, eyes heated.

Finally, he went for more white and stroked dainty petals upward into her pubic hair, out toward her hips, downward onto the soft flesh of her pussy.

Lowering a kiss to her clit, he met her gaze. “Do you like it?”

“Mmm, yes, baby.”

He licked her again, slower, firmer this time, pressing his tongue solidly against the nub jutting from her folds.

“Ohhhh,” she sighed.

“More?” he teased.

She nodded vigorously, her breath coming ragged now.

He considered tormenting her further, but he couldn’t resist the allure of the sweet, wet pussy glistening just below his face. Clearly, her cunt was in need of his attention and he was going to revel in giving it to her.

Slowly, he sank his tongue deep into her soaking gap, easing it down, down, to her tight opening. The briny taste of her filled his senses as he stiffened his tongue into a tight roll and thrust it past her inner lips into the hole usually reserved for his cock or a vibrator.

So warm. So wet. His tongue slid slickly in and out, fucking her, his whole face pressing into her, soaking in her wet folds.

Above him, she whimpered and pushed back, sliding her cunt onto his rigid tongue. “More, baby. Please give me more,” she panted.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t give her more tongue, but he could give her more of something else. Extracting his tongue, he dragged it up over her clit, delivering an open-mouthed French kiss to the needy nub. She howled with pleasure and he continued laving the pink protrusion as he reached beneath the foot of the bed, where they’d stashed the vibrators.

He grabbed onto the first one he found—the middle-sized, cock-shaped one. Plunging it into the opening beneath his mouth, he twisted the end to turn it on. She cried out as the hum filled the air, and when he began to deliver smooth, hard strokes, she moaned at each. He sucked her clit in time with his thrusts and realized she was out of control with excitement in a matter of seconds. God, it killed him to think this was the first time she’d known such multiple pleasures, yet just the same, he was thrilled to be the man delivering them.

That’s right, angel. Scream for me. Love to hear you scream.

Her high-pitched cries fueled him as he sucked her clit and fucked her with the buzzing toy. His cock ached, rising taut against his stomach muscles. She was so fucking beautiful, so fucking real. How many slick, glossy women had he taken to bed only to discover personalities as manufactured as their enhanced breasts? How many girls-gone-wild who’d put on false all-sex, all-the-time personas to come to Key West and be something they weren’t for a few days? He’d never realized he might want more, might need more—but Carrie was forcing him to realize that maybe something had been missing in his life. Pleasuring her was almost like pleasuring himself; that’s how good it felt. Her reactions—ranging from tender and sweet to hot and dirty—drove him like nothing ever had before.

So he licked her, harder, harder, her moans wafting over him as the reward for his toil until all he knew was the taste and scent of her juices, the sound of her pleasure, the pump of her cunt against his mouth and the whirring vibrator that filled her.

When she came, her cries of joy crashed down over him like a wave of heat, but he didn’t stop working at her lovely little pussy—he raked his tongue over her again and again, wanting her to milk every drop of joy from her orgasm, wanting to stretch it out, longer, longer. He thrust the faux cock into her deeper, harder—and to his satisfaction, her hot moans and whimpers seemed to go on interminably, lasting long after he’d expected them to cease.

After awhile, she finally quieted, her body trembling beneath him, her breath coming in short, quivery bursts. Lowering a final kiss to her clit, he rose to look at her. Her eyes were shut, her lips parted, her hair wild as it fanned around her on the bed.

“How do you do that?” she said without opening her eyes.

“Do what?”

“Make me come so long.”

He grinned. “Really? Your orgasm was extra-long? I thought maybe I imagined that because I wanted it to be true.”

She nodded, looking exhausted. “I thought it would never end. I feel totally wrung out.”

He thought back to the way she phrased the question, as if this were an ongoing phenomenon. “Has it been like that before? I mean, with me?”

Another nod. “You give unbelievable climaxes.”

A rush of masculine pride washed through him as he eased up onto the bed to lie beside her. He propped himself on one elbow and gazed down on her as he ran his hand over her stomach and up onto her daisy-painted breast. “You must inspire me.”

She flashed him a coy grin. “I’m feeling sort of inspired myself.”

Pushing to a sitting position, she reached down to run her palm over his thick cock. A ripple of pleasure buffeted him and he let out a light groan. “I thought you were wrung out.”

“I am, but I’m suddenly feeling like an artiste,” she teased. He looked up to see she’d reached for the tins of color. “I can’t let such inspiration go to waste.”

Chris grabbed a pillow for himself, putting his hands behind his head. He intended to have a good view of this. “What are you gonna paint on me, angel?”

She stared off into space for a moment, as if seeking her muse, then