“Ass play?”
Those two words said in her elegant British accent is kind of a turn on, I’m not gonna lie. “Yeah, ass play. I’m guessing you’ve never done anything like that?”
“What exactly are you talking about?” she asks slowly, her gaze…
Curious.
Hot damn.
I bet if I play this right, I can indulge in a little more ass play with Lady Susanna.
“Nothing too crazy. A little slap here and there, nothing too painful, but just enough to sting. A finger inserted. Maybe some anal sex,” I explain, trying to keep it casual.
She blinks at me. We never did close the curtain, so there’s some light in the room. Just enough so I can make out her beautiful features, see her voluptuous body. She has a body that’s made to fuck, and I know that makes me sound like a complete asshole, but it’s true. Her body is curvy, sexy perfection.
And despite the fact I have to get up in a few hours and play football on international television, my cock is on high alert, and I’m ready for more.
“I’ve never done…anything like that before,” she says, her big blue eyes extra luminous in the light.
“Do you want to?”
Susanna presses her lips together.
“If not, no big deal,” I tell her.
She shifts toward me quietly, pushing at my shoulders so I’m flat on my back. She crawls up the length of my body, dragging that lush body across mine until her tits are crushed against my chest and she fits all snug and perfect to me. “I’m willing to try just about anything with you,” she says just before she kisses me.
It’s a delicious kiss, full of sighs and whispery moans and searching tongues. My hands wander, as usual, smoothing up and down, over her ass. She spreads her legs wider, so they fall over my hips and she’s straddling me.
Leaving herself completely open.
But I don’t touch her there. Not yet. I gotta lead up to this. Instead, I keep stroking her ass. I stroke her pussy too, and find it wet and creamy and hot as fucking fire. My cock lets me know it wants in, like soon, and I tell it to wait.
I have other things to take care of first.
Shit, and then there’s the fact that I don’t have any more condoms…
“Roll over, baby,” I tell her, and she does it without protest, lying on the mattress for me, spread eagle with every inch of her on display. Her pussy is wide open and ready for me so I dive down and give it a lick, tongue playing with her clit, making her shudder and squirm beneath me, her hands going to my hair, tugging and pulling and making me wince.
Yet I don’t stop. It’s like I can’t let up.
I want her coming all over my lips.
“I need you inside me,” she whispers, and I lift my head to study her, regret crashing down on me, knowing what I have to say.
“No can do, baby. I don’t have any condoms,” I tell her.
“What?” she practically screeches, her eyes wide. She lets go of my hair, the disappointment written all over her.
“I only had the one from my wallet.”
“This—this won’t do.” She leaps out of bed and flicks on the lamp, making me blink against the harsh yellow light that fills the room. “They might have a box somewhere in this room, right? This is a high-end hotel.”
“And high-end hotels don’t usually provide their guests with condoms,” I say. Not the ones I stay at, at least.
“You never know.” She goes into the bathroom a
nd I hear drawers being opened and closed, mysterious things clacking and dropping, a few whispered curses.