Page 65 of Her Two Lovers

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She moved with him, creating a complementary harmony to the melody of his motions, lifting her hips to bring their bodies closer, hating the barrier their clothes created.

Such immediacy, such fierceness mystified her, yet she couldn’t stop. Oh, no. Didn’t want to stop.

Again she moved upward, crushing her clit against the hardness in his jeans. Such a subtle movement, only a graze really, but she burst into flames as the pulsing climax rolled through her. Starting in her pussy, it radiated into her legs, her belly, upward to her arms and to her cheeks. Why did she always feel a great orgasm in her cheeks? She had no idea, but she did. Tiny tingles needled over her face and she knew her color had turned a rosy pink.

“Oh!” Her voice came from above her, or so it seemed. She continued to grind up against Chandler and the contractions kept coming, each bringing her more and more sensation.

“Oh, damn, baby. Damn. You’re so hot.” He brushed his lips against her warm cheek. “Do you always come this easily?”

No. Never actually. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. “Depends.”

“On what?”

On whether I haven’t had sex in ages. On whether the man I’m with knows instinctively how to touch me, rub against me… “Just depends. You know.”

He let out a gruff chuckle. “No, I don’t know, but right now I want in your pants so bad I don’t care. You can explain later.” He rolled off her and began to undress her. With haste. First her sneakers and socks, and then her sweatpants and cotton panties. “Wow.” He inhaled, closed his eyes. “I can smell you. So ripe, baby.”

Ripe? Hell yeah. She was ready to fall off the vine. Even more so now that she’d experienced an orgasm executed by this gorgeous man. She wanted more. Lots more.

He opened his eyes and regarded her moist pussy. He inhaled again. “Not only fragrant but beautiful too, just like I knew you would be.” He inched her legs farther apart. “So pink, baby. So pretty.”

Pretty? No one had called her pretty down there. Sure, men had appreciated that part of her, sometimes only that part of her, but no one had taken the time to really see it like Chandler did now.

He moved, seemingly in slow motion, and licked his full red lips. “I’m going to taste you, Jane Rock.”

God, please! She didn’t need to say the words aloud.

His tongue stroked her wet slit, silky smooth caresses. Her pussy still pulsated minutely, must still be open and pink for him. The thought turned her on. Jane closed her eyes and turned her cheek into her pillow. She loved having her pussy licked, and right now her clit was on overload from the climax. When he kissed it she would—

“Oh!” The slurpy kiss to her swollen nub sent sizzles straight to her core.

“Mmm, good baby?”

More than good. She was at a loss for words. A simple groan escaped her throat.

“You taste amazing. Just like I knew you would.” He tugged on her swollen pussy lips, shoved his tongue inside her channel.

She writhed beneath his expert ministrations. A god on the keyboard and a god in bed. Who could ask for more?

“Turn over, baby.” His mouth grazed her inner thigh. “I want to see that dragon. I want to lick you from behind.” Gentle hands guided her as she moved onto her tummy. “God you’ve got a nice ass.” His breath tickled her butt cheeks. “But I’ve already told you that.”

Oh, yes, he had.

“Beautiful work.” He lightly traced the outline of her tattoo.

“Thank you.”

“I’ve always wanted a tattoo.”

“You don’t have one?”

“My mother would have a cow.”

Jane jolted and craned her neck to face him. “Your mother? Are you serious? How old are you, Chandler?”

“Twenty-nine.” He smiled. “Born in the year of the cock.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Seems appropriate. But I guess you don’t want to tattoo a rooster on your back. Or a giant dick.” She paused. “Still, you seem older. I’d have guessed we were around the same age.”


Tags: Helen Hardt Erotic