by Vremont, Ann
“You don’t even know why?”
Bryce looked at him. The emotions playing across his face confused her. He looked hurt, and she had been the cause. “I know why…I’m just afraid to say it.”
Frown lines ran deep across his forehead and he chewed at his bottom lip. A second later, his expression smoothed with determination. He leaned closer to her and curled his hand around her shoulder.
“Bryce, I’m going to kiss you unless you tell me not to.”
He waited the time it took her to breathe in once, time enough for her to object if she wanted to before he pressed his mouth against hers. The pressure was light at first and then his hand cupped the side of her face. The demand of the kiss intensified, his thumb playing at the corner of her mouth to coax her lips open. She felt his other hand touch the top of her head, the long fingers weaving their way into her hair. His tongue traced the line of her sealed lips, his mouth opening wider to cover hers.
Bryce relaxed and let his tongue sweep gently into her mouth to thrust and lick. She brought her palm against his chest and brushed her fingertips against his hard nipple. Diaz groaned. The vibration filled her mouth and echoed down her throat until she was groaning with him, kissing and thrusting with a matching passion. She dared to touch him lower, her hand traveling down his body to brace against the tightly drawn waist muscles.
Diaz wound his fingers more securely in her hair while his other hand claimed one firm breast. He squeezed, gently, and brought his index and thumb to press against her nipple.
It was glorious and disturbing at the same time. Her nipple instantly hardened and she felt as if a live wire had just touched her, its electricity lashing around her body until she shook with its energy. She turned into his touch, a frustrated moan escaping her when her skin came into contact with the satin fabric of his pants. She wanted him equally exposed, wanted to feel the smooth velvet skin of his cock and have it serve as a lightning rod for the uncontrollable power running through her.
He broke the kiss and buried his face in the silky flow of her hair against the pillow. He was panting, still holding her tight, his whole body tense. He slid alongside her until his mouth was against her ear.
“I’m going to come just touching you like this.”
Bryce hadn’t stopped shaking, the contractions of her pussy hitting hard and vehemently. She squeezed her ass and thighs, trying to master her body’s responses, but the pressure and the slide of her labia against her clit threatened to send her spiraling further out of control. She grabbed his ass, her fingertips digging into the firm glutes. The difference in their heights had the jut of his covered erection wedged against the top split of her cunt.
“Don’t move,” she begged. Another second and she would either be back in control—or coming against him.
*****
Walt felt her shudder against him, heard the tremor of air around her mouth as she sucked it in. He remained motionless, his balls drawn tight, and he bit down hard on his top lip to stop the climax that would come with just one more sensual roll of her mound against the head of his cock. His ass tensed and Bryce dug her fingertips in harder, the breath she had been holding leaving her body in one long moan.
God, he wanted to pull his pants down and spread her legs, spearing his cock into the sweet pussy his fingertips had touched less than half an hour ago. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to take her gently.
He’d waited so long, fantasized about the cherry red mouth of hers far too many nights, to take her gently when he was this aroused. He needed her wet and ready, her body pleading for his cock no matter how hard he slammed into her. He wanted to make her come.
To make her come again.
His chest swelled at the thought she had trusted him, trusted his touch, enough to find release. It wasn’t, he imagined, something she allowed very often.
When the last tremor passed through Bryce, he slid to the floor, moving in inches, stopping to kiss her shoulder, the inside bend of her elbow and her wrist. As he moved, he guided her so that she no longer ran the vertical length of the bed, but was positioned across its width, her bottom perched at its edge.
She pressed her knees tight together and he kissed those, too. He ran his hand along the underside of her thighs, stroking and massaging until he felt some give to her nervous resistance. When she finally parted her legs, he could smell just how hot she was. The aroma of her juices mingled with her body wash, the fragrance a sharp ruby grapefruit that bit at his cock and nipples. He wanted to dive in face first, licking and nibbling her to another climax.
Instead, he advanced on her slowly. He worked her thighs far enough apart that his shoulders filled the “V” of her legs. Her labia remained closed, but the translucent cream of her excitement glistened at the dividing line. He beaded at the sight of her, the mix of citrus and the sweet honey of her cunt making his nostrils flare in appreciation of her scent.
Reaching behind him, he found the bundle of towels that held the razor and shaving cream. He unrolled one towel and coaxed Bryce into lifting her bottom long enough for him to slide the towel under her. He used the act to bring his face close to the silky triangle of hair. He felt her tense in anticipation and wondered if she was ready to let him kiss her there, too.
God, I hope so.
His biceps under her thighs, he wrapped his forearms up and around her hips, holding her in place as he ran his mouth and nose over her soft bush. Everything about her was lush and enticing. She squirmed and he looked up in time to see her draw her arms above her head, her hands fisting in the bedspread.
Smiling, he watched her across the rise of her mound as his tongue slid over the top split of her labia. She tensed, her breasts still as she waited to breathe again. He slid his tongue between her lips and lightly touched the spot at the very top of her clit’s spine. She pulled more air into her body but didn’t breathe out. Her breasts pushed higher at the intake. Their small forms took on a hard ripeness as they swelled with her excitement. The nipples drew tight, darkening in jealousy as he teased her lower body.
Slow, slow, slowly. He paced his tongue’s assault down the length of her clit. Just as slowly, he brought it back up. He heard her breathe out, and then he licked her again.
“Walt…” She said his name softly, a hint of pleading and long denied hunger making her voice thick. “Please don’t stop.”
In control, he smiled against the press of her labia and rolled the hood of her clit between his tongue and top lip before answering her. She rolled with him, her hips and shoulders grinding in opposite directions on the mattress, the gyrations punctuated by a low, frustrated mewling.
“I won’t, Bryce baby,” he answered. “I’m going to kiss and suck and tease until you come.” He underscored his words with a quick swipe. “And then I’m going to shave you.” Another lick, longer than the last and ending with a lingering suck. “And then I’m going to taste you all over again.”
Bryce responded with a shaky moan, bringing her braceleted hand down to cover her face. He saw that all but a single charm—a dove—had been removed. Seeing Aphrodite’s symbol of pure love, his chest tightened. Had Bryce put the charm on for him, knowing what it meant?
Diaz pushed aside that particular hope and concentrated on pleasing her. He brought both hands to her pussy, taking one full lip in each and massaging them. He used the pads of his thumbs to tease her, one rubbing against the inner breach of her clit while the other circled the tight ring of her cunt. Bryce continued to move with him, arching and thrusting her hips. Covering her engorged clit with his mouth and sucking at it, he used both thumbs to test the taut inner circle of muscle that guarded her pussy.
He teased her pussy wider, slicking his tongue down and inside her, licking his way back up to attack the swollen little hood while his thumbs pumped deeper. He whispered his vespers against the creamy silk of her labia and thighs.
She came as he urged her on. Only his hands touched her now. His thumbs stretched her wide and thru
st into her while his index fingers rubbed up and down the length of her clit.
Biting the flesh of her wrist, she bucked against the assault, pumped against his thumbs while her shoulders and head thrashed along the center of the bed.
He didn’t stop until he’d wrung the last of her climax from her. Until his hands were wet with her cream and she was gently crying “no more”.
Chapter Seven
Bryce wasn’t sure about the shake in Diaz’s hand as he brought the razor up to her shaving-cream covered mound. He was trying to control it, she could tell, but his efforts only intensified the shake until he trembled from his fingertips to his shoulder. His gaze was clouded and he obviously was trying just as hard to focus.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to do this?” she asked.
“You’ll go hide in the bathroom if I say ‘yes’,” he answered. His voice somehow managed to simultaneously shake and growl. It was the sexiest sound she had ever heard, and it tugged at her nipples and clit like one sharp pull on a drawstring.
“And if I promise I won’t go hide?” She gave him a shy smile, not quite believing the teasing tone she had adopted was really hers or that she was contemplating shaving in front of him.
Diaz rubbed his cheek against the inside of her thigh, his gaze never leaving her face. “Bryce, I’m probably going to bust either way.”
She giggled, pleased and shocked—shocked not only by what he said, but that he could make her giggle like some pre-teen. Strike that, she hadn’t giggled since she was five, right before she’d started kindergarten.
“If you sit in the chair and watch,” she suggested as she pushed up onto her elbows and took the razor from him, “you’ll be able to use both hands to keep…” Arching one brow, she stared at the heavy bulge of erect cock that pressed against the front panel of his pants. “Keep things in control. Right?”
He nodded, looking even more dazed and unfocused, and reached for the bowl of water. He placed the bowl on the nightstand and repositioned the chair so that he could sit between her splayed legs.
“Ready?” She planted a foot on each side of him and gave the razor a little twirl, feeling naughty and completely in command of the situation.
Diaz clasped her ankles. She stared at him, the intensity of his grip surprising her. He licked his lips, then drew the bottom one between his teeth. He held her like that, his passion hypnotizing her, until he nodded.
Bryce drew the razorblade down across her mound. She rinsed the blade then stroked the same path again, the pale white skin of her mound appearing in a one-and-a-half inch stripe. Diaz let go of her left ankle and slid his hand beneath the waistband of his pants. She saw the push of fabric as he wrapped his hand around his cock and squeezed. It wouldn’t be long, she realized, before her own hands began to shake. She wanted to see him—to touch, kiss and taste him as intimately as he had feasted upon her.
While she could still control her hands, she shaved a second stripe clean, and then a third. Diaz closed his eyes and leaned his head back. His lips, pressed tightly together, trembled as if he were biting at the insides. She stopped, giving them both time to regain their control.
When he dropped his head back down, his gaze half-lidded, she continued clearing the strips that bordered the “V” of her mound. Shaving lower, she had to bring her feet up onto the chair’s widely spaced armrests. She could feel the lips of her pussy part. Next came the cool onrush of air against the opening of her cunt as she totally exposed her body to his view. Diaz groaned, blinking every few seconds, both hands down his pants.
Pinching one labia to the side to shave its edge, she paused. “Show me,” she said and tilted her chin in the direction of his lap.
“S-show you?” He was breathing hard, the smooth, muscled pectoral planes of his chest rising and falling in rapid succession.
Bryce gave the razor another twirl. “Yes, I want you as naked as I am,” she answered and poised the razor over the exposed labia, refusing to go on until he complied.
Diaz gripped the waist of his pants, stretching the fabric past his erection as he eased them down his hips. Lifting his ass to push the pants down his thighs, his full cock came into view.
Bryce made a soft gurgle at the back of her throat. “Now I think I’m going to bust,” she said, her gaze taking a second trip along the length of his uncut cock.
The tip was a watermelon-red center hidden inside a thick sheath of foreskin the color of light walnut. The veins bulged with his excitement and patterned the sheath with a network of bumps and ridges that left Bryce squirming in anticipation of having him inside her. He kicked out of the pants and the shaft jumped toward her. She wanted to reach out and wrap her hand around it—or hands, the girth and length not easily managed with just one. It was the most beautiful cock she had ever seen and the first one in the flesh.
Naked, muscles rippling with his physical confidence, Diaz leaned back against the chair and wrapped both hands around his cock. He pulled the foreskin down, revealing the shiny red arrowhead. A single pearlescent bead glistened in its slit, and Bryce licked her lips, her whole body churning for a taste.
Setting the razor on the towel Diaz had spread beneath her, she wiped the last of the shaving cream from her mound. Then she dropped both feet to the floor and leaned forward. “This isn’t fair, you know?” she said.
She wasn’t looking at his face. She’d had seven months to study it. His nose was cat-like—somewhat flat and broadening to a rounded tip. The jaw and cheekbones were strong, the chin a perfect curve that matched the fuller lower lip. The top lip was thinner, and oh-so-firm—able, as she had just learned, to exert exquisite pressure on the top length of her clit while his tongue and bottom lip gently teased the fleshy hood and the sensitive opening to her urethra. And she had gotten lost, if only for a few seconds, in the olive green gaze every time she’d come face-to-face with him since he’d moved in.
No, she knew that face and would always know it. Now she was looking at his cock, memorizing the lacework of thick veins and the plump tip that looked like an inverted strawberry, but undoubtedly tasted ten times better.
“Not fair?” He was stroking it now, using both hands to move the foreskin and rest of the sheath along the heavy shaft, the swollen tip momentarily winking out of sight before he smoothed it back into view.
“Not fair at all,” she answered and planted the tip of her tongue against the center of her top lip. “I want a taste. I want…a drink.”
*****
Her mouth was small, a little heart of desire. Too small, most likely, but Walt was sure Bryce would only have to suck the tip into her mouth before he exploded. He stood up, a little dizzy from all the blood diverted to his pounding cock. He took his time rising from the chair. He didn’t want to rouse the old Bryce, who would have bolted the instant she landed on his patio.
“You look a little nervous,” Bryce said.
Her hazel eyes had darkened to a smoky emerald and she seemed half in a trance. Not unfitting, he thought, snake charmer that she was. “I am nervous,” he said.
Her gaze flicked down to his cock and then back up to his face. “I’ll give it back, I promise.”
She made a little scout’s honor sign with her right hand, her braceleted hand sneaking beneath the pillow at the headboard. Walt wanted to believe that she was crossing her fingers beneath the pillow, unbinding herself from the promise even as she coaxed him closer to those juicy red lips.
“I didn’t think you’d let me paint you,” he said, stopping at the edge of the mattress, his cock even with her head. “I didn’t think you’d come back this evening or let me…let me have you in any of the ways I wanted you.”
She shook her head, as if she found his worries absurd. Wrapping her hand around his cock, she closed her eyes for an instant, exploring the shaft’s length and shape by touch alone. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Put your hand in my hair,” she said.
Walt ran his fingers through the honey
-blonde hair, focusing hard on the combination of colors and shades that made up the total effect. It was his favorite color, to be found time and again in the paintings of his favorite artists. Bryce was the first woman he’d ever seen whose honey coloring was natural.
When she brought her tongue to the slit of his cock and sucked at the beads of pre-cum, he fisted his hand in all that glorious hair. “It’s n-not going to take long,” he warned. He wondered how much tighter his balls could get and then she brought her other hand up between his spread legs to stroke his heavy, cum-laden sacs.
Okay, tighter is possible, he thought, and drew in a deep breath.
She feather-stroked his perineum before returning to gently cup his balls at the same time her petite mouth stretched itself over the head. He added a second quick draw of air to the last, still unable to exhale. Finding another, new layer of tightness in his body, he grabbed her shoulder to keep from pumping past those sweet cherried lips and coming down her throat.
But she seemed to want him to do that, her touch goading him on. Her tongue flicked against one of the bulging veins that fed the tip of his erection. Her nails, soft but threatening, traveled his perineum again and stroked the top of his thighs and the skin of his balls before she cupped them. She held him like that, the knuckle of one index finger rubbing lightly at the base of his balls while she kept him wrapped tight in her mouth, her other hand stroking the part of the shaft she couldn’t suck in.
His palm curled around the back of her head and he knew the fingertips of his other hand were digging into her shoulder. When he tried to relax his grip, she only sucked him harder, her mouth rising up and off his cock head before slurping back down. His thighs started trembling and he let go of her head to grip the edge of the nightstand.
“Bryce, baby, if you don’t stop now, I’m going to come in your mouth.”
