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.

is husky. “You don’t have to kneel for me, Kirstie. I don’t need to Master you

kneeling for my Master,” I say. “I’m

take his hard, beautiful cock into my mouth. It trembles and quivers between my lips as I gently suck at the seeping head, laving the delicate skin with the moist heat of my tongue. His pre-cum washes inside my mouth, with its subtle briny taste, and I inhale the clean sandal-wood muskiness of his groin. And as I suckle on him, basking in his perfume, my pussy warms and

hands clasped behind his head. His heaving chest gleams in the half-light, the skin slick with perspiration. His teeth are almost bared, gritted

like a gift, that you will

bends. “Enough,” he says. “It’s amazing, and another evening, I want you to take me all the way, but

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

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, he slides them

of my thighs, and as I step out of the panties, his face is pressing into my wet curls, his tongue probing beyond. I moan and stagger as electric sensation pulses through me, but

a few moments, “I can’t reach

lifts me up in his arms and places me, almost reverently,

so different to how it was before

yet…. somehow….

predatory; and the look of him jolts down to my pussy. I am drunk on this man. I want to wallow in him. And the growing ache between my legs

lithe movement, he swings across me, parting me at the knees, dropping to caress

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

wave rises within, the coming tsunami. Arching,

and the rush

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

…. unbearable….