My body makes an array of blissful sounds.
“What’s the first?” I pant.
He grins like the self-assured, cocky bastard he is, stands up with me still attached, and walks with me draped around his waist like an accessory across the room.
Stone picks up a remote control and points it toward the near movie-screen size projector mounted on his wall.
“You like everything big?”
“You will too, very soon.”
I hitch in a breath. I don’t need to be reminded of the behemoth in his pants! To distract myself, I follow his line of vision to the screen. He has a Spotify account and is skimming through his playlists.
“You have a sex playlist?” It makes sense for my stripper—ahem—friend.
“No. But I do have this…” He indicates I should pay closer attention.
“Ballerina Fantasy.” I read the playlist’s title. My jaw drops. I stutter, “You… when…?”
“Em, I’ve thought about nothing and no one but you—obsessively—ever since you tripped into my dressing room. You know, I ran outside into the parking lot at Foreplay trying to catch you before you ran away.”
“You did?”
“I wanted to tell you I was sorry. I felt terrible about what had happened,” Stone explains, his pretty blue eyes melting into mine. “I knew you’d never show back up there. So, I looked for you everywhere I went, hoping I’d run into you. It’s a big freaking city, Em, and I’ll admit once I got over the guilt, you were pure fucking fantasy—my magical, elusive, ballerina.”
I smile, and it teeters on the fringes of giddiness.
“So you made a fantasy playlist?”
“It completely depends on your viewpoint—do you find a man stroking his own cock hot or repulsive?”
The mental image of Stone using thoughts of me with sexy songs as his fantasy makes my vadge volcanic. “Hot,” I whisper.
A second ago he had looked kinda concerned, but now he smiles again.
“You want to know the songs?”
I nod shyly. I’m sure I’m beet red.
“So gorgeous when you blush.” Stone’s tongue darts out and tastes my cheeks while I read over the playlist. “Got one you like the most?”
He’s got about twenty songs on the list. One stands out among the rest as not sexy. I’d like to know what he was thinking when he chose it. It’s a Beatles song that praises the rising sun.
“Why that one? It’s not sexy.”
“Right, Sunshine.” He carries me into his bedroom, remote in hand. “Let’s see.”
The song begins to play as he lays me across the king size bed, crawls on top of me and kisses me breathless. “Time to keep my promises.”
“Promises?” I think I’m incoherent.
“To lick every inch of you.” Stone lavishes the tender skin of my throat with his tongue.
“Oh God,” I whine.
“To bite, lick, and suck until I own you.” One nipple he sucks greedily into his mouth, the other he rolls between rough fingertips. The sensations are incredible. “Your tits are fucking perfect.”
He licks under and around my needy breast before scraping his teeth across the second nipple.
I moan and lift my hips. When I don’t find what I really want, I complain, “Oh, Stone, you’re still in your pants.”
“Because I’d be buried deep inside you in a hot minute if I wasn’t.” He cups both mounds in his hands, thumbs each nipple, sending electric waves straight through me, and slides his chiseled abs and chest down between my legs.
“I don’t know what this lotion or perfume is you’re wearing, but I fully intend on finding out.” Dropping his head to one side, then the other, he licks and kisses and bites tenderly down each rib. “I adore the scent of your skin.”
When he reaches the curve of my hip, he travels to the center of my stomach and traces circles around my belly button with his tongue. The motion is lovely and sensual as it sends erotic Morse code—telegram style—to the Lady V, with a message along the lines of: He’s about to do exactly what you think. Stop. You know you want it. Stop. Make him stop. Stop!
I told myself I wouldn’t compare Stone’s lovemaking skills to that of my ex, but the Morse code has signaled an emergency response. In the almost three years I was with my ex, he had never gone down on me. I remembered all too vividly why.
“Stone…”
“I love my name on your lips.”
I smile, caught up in him, then remember why I was interrupting. “It’s probably best that you don’t continue on your present course.”
Concern paints over his lustful expression. “Are you uncomfortable? Do you want me to stop?”
“No, not at all…”
“Oh, good.” He continues forging through the expedition using his tongue and lips and gentle nips as tools and leaving a trail of wildfire from my belly button straight to my…
He buries his nose in the tight trimmed triangle of hair. “So soft,” he purrs.
Before I can even offer up a silent thanks to the silky hair conditioner gods, he breathes in deeply as if he’s caught the scent of something wonderful like warm maple syrupy waffles.
“Oh fuck, you smell incredible, Em! Like fucking spring and Christmas rolled into one.”
Next thing I know, Stone has my legs spread wide before him, my kitten glistening under his hungry gaze.
“Your pussy is so beautiful. I can’t wait to eat you out.”
I gasp in utter exhilaration—and horror—at the prospect. Yet I’m rendered speechless.
“With each stroke of my tongue I’m going to break you apart until you shatter into a million orgasmic atoms.”
Science-sexisms, how cute.
I come to my senses. “Stone…”
“It’s so not that easy, Em.” At this, he blows a cool puff of air over my clit but bypasses it and begins mouth-fucking my thighs. I’m not kidding either—I never knew the inside of my thighs could be so freaking sensitive. He dotes on them—nibbles and sucks until I know there will be hickeys between my legs and licks as if my body’s a tasty creation from Willy Wonka’s factory.
The heat my thighs are experiencing is radioactive while the kitten is exposed to the cold air. The contrast is indescribable. All I know is, I want his mouth where the treasure is… but…
“Stone, please stop.” I try to make my mind blank so it doesn’t hurt my heart so much.
“What’s going on?”
It’s really difficult to take myself seriously at the moment. He has my ass and hips tilted up and my pussy on prominent display before him like he’s ready to gorge himself.
“I don’t think it… tastes very good, so… I think we should skip this part and get straight to the sex.” Each word tumbles from my mouth spastically. At least I got it out.
“You’re shy, huh?” He smiles. “No worries, babe.”
My hands fly up to hide my embarrassed face. “My ex said there was something… wrong with me. That it… wasn’t right… good… the taste… of me. Down there.” I swallow hard and brace for the worst.
I feel Stone’s entire body shift as he comes to lay back over me fully. I’m disappointed but also relieved he didn’t plunge in. If he’d been turned off—or worse, disgusted—it would’ve been hell to live with the fact that I’d tainted the rest of this very happy developing memory.
Both his hands wrap around my wrists as he pulls the shutter of my hands away from my face. He does not look happy.
Shit! I blew it. That’s what happens when you let the kitten out of the bag after so long. Way too much crazy cat.
“Is that what that bloody wanker of a dick ex-boyfriend told you?”
I close my eyes at the intensity of his anger and nod. “Mmhmm.”
“Fucking motherfucker never went down on you?!”
This time I shake my head. “Nu-uh.”
His stare is penetrating, so I really want my hands back. I pull them out of his grasp, feeling like a c
omplete freaking idiot and child, and cover my face again. I’m pretty sure this ridiculous moment presented to you by Life’s Post Baggage Company has completely ruined everything. I should have never let him get that close to my land down under.
Maybe other women have magical vaginas that taste like rainbows and strawberries but…
In a fraction of a second, my legs are spread wide, my thoroughly Stone-tenderized thighs pulled apart, and his searing hot, wet mouth is over my kitten!
!!!
“Oh, you’re fucking dripping for me.” He groans huskily in his throat.
His tongue swipes through the length of my flower and lingers an extra moment on the jewel at the top.
“Oh my God!” I unhinge.
“Yeah, oh my God, baby!” Stone echoes as he licks and sucks at my core. “Your pussy tastes sweet as fucking fairy floss, Em!”
I’m delirious.
Can oral sex cause delirium? Is it a known side effect? Is that a thing? Because if it is, I’m sure I have it.
I pant. “Fairy floss?”
“Sweet spun sugar that melts in my mouth. Americans call it cotton candy, Princess. Mmm,” he hums against me.
“Oh!” A powerful moan rolls through my chest like thunder. I’ve had my own hands and toys down there on many occasions, but nothing—NOTHING!—even comes close to Stone’s supernatural tongue!
“This pretty little pearl”—he flicks his tongue over my hyper-excited clit—“is utterly succulent.” Stone alternates between licking and sucking; soft and hard pressures; speeds slow, fast, and slow again. “I’m going to work this lovely bundle of nerves until you skyrocket. I’m going to watch your gorgeous face as you come hard in my mouth, then I’m going to lick up every last drop of nectar you spill for me.”
“Oh!”
“Emelie, every part of your exquisite body is mouthwatering.”
The fear abating, I spread my legs wider, shift my hips higher.
“You like it, don’t you, baby? That spark of pure pleasure radiating from your luscious pussy and spreading through your being?”
Holy shit! My back arches and I can’t stop myself from smashing myself against his perfect face. He’s all soft, thick lips and wet, firm tongue with an intoxicating scrape of light stubble.
I nearly explode from the sensation of his tongue dipping down to search my opening. He’s tongue fucking me! While he does this, he employs his thumb to create circular motions over my clit. I’m going to lose every last shred of sanity! My body is made of fire.
“You’re trembling, Em. I can feel it building, taking you over. White hot like a star… so intense. Do you feel it?”
“Yes, I feel it! Oh my God!” I shout.
“Mmm… so good. You deserve this, baby.” He changes it up—nothing he’s done has been quick or has made me feel hurried. In fact, it’s very much the opposite. It’s as if he’s savoring… me. His tongue laps at my clit as he sinks two long fingers inside of me. I’m falling in love with his mouth and his large, strong hands. “Come on, Sunshine, give it all to me.”
He stares up at me, watching my every move and listening for my every sound.
“Say my name, Em, if you want me to take you all the way.”
“Stone!”
“Scream it, baby.”
“STONE! OH MY GOD! STONE!”
He hums the melody of that sun coming up Beatles’ song directly against my aroused flesh, and it’s the sexiest song I’ve ever heard!
My orgasm is tantamount to the big bang!
I see stars as the sensations ripple and expand from my core, spreading up my torso, through my arms and legs and into my fingers and toes. My scalp tingles.
Everything tingles.
I feel like I’m made of light, like I’ve swallowed a star.
“And that, Love, is an Australian kiss.”
Chapter Ten
Stone
Interpreting Little Red Riding Hood
(Porn adaption)
“Ohhhhh!” she purrs in this sexy, half-blissful-moan, half-dazedly understanding the meaning of the kiss down under while her body still quakes gorgeously from her rising.
Here comes the sun never had a better meaning.
Before she can think or calm down, I press my body on top of hers, grab her face to give me the best angle, and close my mouth—wet with her juices—over hers.
I lick her lips, swirl my tongue around hers and penetrate it deeply towards her throat. She moans against my mouth.
“That’s all you, Em. You taste fucking amazing! Nectar of the gods.”
Her soft body pushes up as mine pushes down—we crush against one another with powerful need.
“Now, Sunshine, I’m going to give you the dirtiest fucking you’ve ever had.”
She gasps.
“Don’t. Move,” I tell her. She looks gorgeous, naked and spread out over my bed, her sweet creamy white skin colored with orgasm and wine.
I stretch, reaching over to the bedside drawer, and grab a condom out of it then sit up on my knees
I’m happy—I mean seriously fucking happy—my fantasy is in my bed, recovering from coming under my tongue and is about to be filled with me. My hips move to “The Fix” by Nelly and Jeremih. Half-moon rotations with an arse snap to the left and then the right.
Em’s smile shines in her beautiful, famished eyes.
I alternate the direction of the half-moon to swivel to the front. Since it’s a motion that showcases my dick, I use my right hand to unbutton then release my fly.
Curling my torso, chest, and hips in waves forward, as if I were inside of her, fucking her, I allow my left hand to stroke down from my neck, over my chest, and further, until I’m spreading my fingers wide against the lowest section of my abdominals.
Her entire body wriggles below me, ripe with anticipation.
I smoothly leap to my feet—still on the bed, over her—and my fingers catch the waistband of my pants and push them down over my knees. I remove each foot, so that I’m standing before her in nothing but a black pair of Hugo Boss grundies.
Because my huge-o dick is boss!
In a second those are gone too. “I’m going to make your pussy throb, Em.”
She draws in a sharp breath. Her eyes are glued to my tool.
“That’s… way too big.”
I beam at the compliment. “Thank you.”
“I mean, I don’t think… the behemoth is going to be able to… submerge.”
I snort out a laugh.
“Behemoth, huh?” Gotta love that.
“You think I’m kidding.” She stares with worry and wonder. “I can’t believe I’m going to actually ask this, but I’ve heard of tribal cultures hanging weights from their… you know what… to make them hung. Is that like a thing in Australia? I mean, have you…”—her voice gets low like someone else might hear—“done that?”
“Holy shit, you’re funny!” I’m smiling so hard my cheeks are sore. There is nothing more flattering than a gorgeous naked woman underneath you praising the size of your manhood. “I lift weights regularly, but no, I’ve never hung any on my… you know what.”
“But it’s…” HA! She looks like she’s not really sure she believes me. “Can I touch it?”
“As much and as often as you’d like.”
She sits up and inches her bum closer until her lovely face is positioned directly under my cock.
Holy fuck, what an idyllic view!
Her big brown eyes are wide as they survey the prospect from under a canopy of dark thick lashes. When she dances tentative feather-light fingertips over my shaft, I’m ready to lose it.
Pre-cum forms at the tip. As I pull back so I don’t christen her, Em surprises me as she grips my cock firmly, stopping my retreat.
I grunt at the sensation of her squeezing.
“Oh. Fuck,” I exclaim as her pink tongue peeks out of her pretty little mouth and licks it away.
I may have size, stamina, and swagger, but I’m
only human! I take a mental photograph for later jacking sessions. Might seem crude now, but if she really has the wherewithal to stick to her guns and her self-imposed—ridiculous, I might add—stipulations to our arrangement, I’m going to need some relief!
My cheeks puff as I blow out a breath of hot air, move her hand and tongue off my trigger, and sit back to pull the condom on.
“And how did it become so long, and thick?” Sounds like she’s having trouble with the weight hanging theory.
“Au naturel.” I move in closer to her. “The better to pleasure you with, my dear.”
She giggles and teases back, “Are you the Big Bad Wolf?”
“Makes sense, seeing that I’ve already eaten-out Little Red Riding Hood, and she’s amazed at my big bad cock. I’ll have to go with the line, ‘The better to fuck you with, my dear.’”
Her jaw unhinges as she exhales in surprise, and I slide over top of her, crushing her double-scoops against my chest.
“Oh Christ, you’re soft flesh against my muscle. The contrast is animal.” I glide and grind over her.
She becomes breathless.
“I love your tits,” I marvel. “They fit perfectly in my hands and mouth.”
Holding some of my weight off her using my elbows, I massage her peaches, running my thumbs over the pretty pink stems before taking turns sucking hungrily on each.
She utters the sweetest sounds.
“Now imagine, if that feels so good… let’s try this…”
I get back to my knees, take the length of my shaft into my right hand, and press her thigh down with my left. We both watch, mesmerized, as I slide the bulging head of my cock over her saturated core.
“Oh, you’re so drenched. I love that it’s all for me.” I groan roughly and circle my tip against her still sensitive clit. Her overwrought body tremors with each pass.
Watching as I skim the—What did she call it? Oh yeah, behemoth. Love that!—through her luscious flower, I tell her, “You’re so fucking sexy exposed beneath me; my naked girl to do what I want with, your body my wonderland.”
I’m burning up as she’s panting and wriggling in excitement.
“You like this, baby?” I tease her.
She nods bashfully.
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