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.

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

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

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

upwards, hands clasped behind his head. His heaving chest gleams in the half-light, the skin

“It feels like a gift, that

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

my blouse, drawing long strokes with his fingers over the pale skin of my breasts. A hand cupping one, he reaches 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

response. With quick, economic movements, he unzips my skirt, slipping it down over the curve of my hips. My panties follow,

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 he grips me in

only a few moments, “I can’t reach you properly like this.” he says. “Time to have

sweep, lifts me up in his

so different to how it was

somehow….

almost predatory; and the look of him jolts down to my pussy. I am drunk on this man. I want to wallow in

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

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

within, the coming tsunami. Arching, my spine

and the rush takes

my release, his tongue still lapping at me, but more gently now,

…. unbearable….