“You owe me an orgasm after waking me up. And I always collect on payment.”
“I—what?” he asked through a half laugh and moan. But I guess a girl grinding herself on you would get that kind of incredulous response.
“You. Owe. Me,” I repeated as I took off my shirt and bra, tossing them to the side of the bed.
He stopped asking questions then, eyes too distracted by my chest. Gripping my breasts with both hands, I rolled my nipples between my fingers and watched him watch me.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He licked his bottom lip as he continued to watch, seemingly unable to look anywhere other than my tits.
“Do you want a taste?”
“I won’t be satisfied with just a taste,” he said, sitting up and taking my mouth in a toe-curling kiss. His tongue danced with mine as he gripped my ass, sliding me against his cock. “I want it all, honey,” he whispered against my lips before leaning down and sucking a nipple into his mouth.
His tongue was devious, I knew that much as it flitted across my nipple with two short flicks and a deliciously long drag. My hips ground against him as I threaded my fingers into his hair, encouraging him to give the other nipple just as much attention. And he did. The man was nothing if not thorough.
But I could only take so much teasing before I started to get frustrated. I gripped his hair, pulling his eyes to mine. “Get naked. Get a condom. I need your cock inside me.”
Thatch didn’t think twice about my demands, flipping me onto my back and removing my yoga pants and panties like a goddamn magician. His briefs were gone, and he was sliding a condom on between one blink and the next.
Before he could take control, I pushed him back down onto the bed, straddling his hips and guiding him inside me.
“Well, fuck,” I moaned the second his dick was buried to the hilt. “God, your cock feels so good,” I said as I started a smooth up-and-down rhythm, my pussy clenching against him every time he was pressed deep. The heat of his chest seeped into the palms of my hands, and it felt like being zapped back to life by defibrillator paddles.
“I’m feeling all kinds of things about your pussy, honey. If you weren’t sitting on my dick, I’d be worshiping this perfect cunt with my tongue.” He grabbed my breasts again, his thumb flicking against my nipples and spurring tremors to roll down my spine.
“By all means,” I said as I moved off of him and straddled his face. He started to disagree with the change in position until I gripped his hair in one hand and spread myself with the other. “Eat it, Thatch. Make me come on your face.”
Surely I was having a stroke.
I mean…were these the symptoms of a stroke? Maybe not for everyone, but certainly for a guy like me, having a stroke would be something like this.
Cassie’s creamy thighs rubbed against my cheeks, forcing my short beard to pull the other way and tug at the nerves.
God. Okay. Jesus, I needed to relax. My heart was beating unbearably fast, and there was no way I could maintain the pace for more than a minute.
But fuck. The smell of her pussy as she literally rode my face was goddamn indescribable. It didn’t smell like anything else I’d ever smelled before—even other pussies—but whatever pheromones it housed must have been specially programmed for me. Like Miracle-Gro for my dick. I couldn’t see it at the moment, because I couldn’t see anything other than this wild woman’s fucking perfect pussy, but it was bigger than it’d ever been. A wager of fifteen grand on that very fact wouldn’t have even made me blink.
Not to mention, how the fuck had we gotten here? How in the hell was I having sex with Cassie Phillips right now? My head was obviously too round and thick to wrap around the unexpected concept.
When she ground down harder on my mouth and whimpered, I recognized the need to forget all the details and just concentrate on what I knew. And I knew how to eat a fucking pussy.
The secret was simple.
It was never, ever the same.
It could be the same woman, the same day, the same fucking session, but a woman’s pussy is a special kind of woman. She’s picky but fucking generous, and she gets off on all kinds of wicked shit, but her biggest turn-on is variety and a good sense of mood.
I did my best to listen for Cassie’s cues, her moans and whimpers and the speed of her breath. Did she need it faster or slower, and was the pressure just right? The answer was never consistent, and I fucking loved it. Every time I earned a reward through the curl of her toes or a squeeze of her knees, it made me work harder.
I licked and sucked, and she writhed her slick heat against my face. Her skin flushed the color of her nipples from her toes to her nose, and my dick jumped in response.