Choosing Her Lover

But no, as he pulls back to look me in the face, his eyes are alight.

He traces the outline of my lips with a finger. “I love you too, Kirstie. I’ll admit, it’s unexpected to me. But I do love you.” Then his mouth falls over mine and he pulls me in tight at waist and hip.

“Ah, jeez….” he mutters.

“Something wrong?”

“Nope, quite the opposite.” He chuckles. “I need to get out of these pants. They’re killing me.”

I giggle, my fist against my mouth.

His voice rich with mock anger, “Don’t laugh, Kirstie. A man has some pride in these things.” He struggles with his belt.

“Here, let me,” I say.

I kiss him on the mouth, reaching down to unbuckle and unzip him, sliding soft fabric down past lean hips and tightly muscled thighs, until he steps free. Then gradually moving south, I kiss the tip of his nose, his chin and the tender skin of his collarbone. Slowly, I slip free each button of his shirt, then his cuffs and slide the garment back from his shoulders.

His bared chest my canvas, with his broad shoulders and fine scattering of black hair, I stroke and kiss the firm skin, the tight muscles, all the while slowly dropping.

He knows where this is going, and as I gradually fall to my knees, he shudders against my open mouth.

me, Kirstie.

kneeling for my Master,” I say. “I’m kneeling for my

the moist heat of my tongue. His pre-cum washes inside my mouth,

the

like a gift, that you will do this

to take me all the way, but

behind me, releasing my bra and tugging it away from me. He stoops to take a nipple into his mouth, fingering the other, sucking, teething and mouthing, rolling, tweaking and pinching. They pucker tight, fire stabbing exquisitely down and through to my already heated core, and gasping, I tremble under the touch of my lover, fingers digging reflexively into the back of his

my response. With quick, economic movements, he unzips my skirt, slipping it down over the curve of my hips. My panties follow, his fingers hooked inside the filmy satin as dropping to his knees, descending,

his face is pressing into my wet curls, his tongue probing beyond. I moan and stagger as

can’t reach you properly like this.” he says. “Time to have you abed, my

me up in his arms and

how it was

somehow….

and intense, his expression carnal, almost predatory; and the look of him jolts down to my pussy. I am drunk on this man. I want

parting me at the knees, dropping to caress my clit with his tongue. Lightning sizzles through me, thunder rocking and

know that. I’m already halfway along the road. His mouth over my pussy, he thumbs at my clit. With tongue and thumb

within, the coming tsunami. Arching, my spine strains

wave breaks, and the rush

tongue still lapping at me, but more gently now, drawing out the moment

…. unbearable….