Page 13

God.

My cock pressed painfully against the fabric now.

Rock hard.

Swollen.

Salivating for her pussy.

She whispered, “You were so greedy. It felt so good. Not even like a dream.”

My mouth watered, and I wished I could taste her pussy right then.

She was feeding me this confession in pieces, and I was fucking choking on the intensity of it.

I felt her thighs on either side of my face.

Felt her hands in my hair.

Felt myself moaning like I needed her taste on my tongue.

Her voice trembled with just enough lusty wickedness. “I called you my good little Dragon.”

A dark growl left me.

“You moaned so loud when I came.”

I had my pants open in seconds.

“I didn’t want you to stop, so I buried your head in my pussy and I came again and. . .you just kept licking.”

“Fuck. . .Tora.” My fingers slid beneath my boxer briefs. I freed my cock and stared down at it. “You’ve got me so hard.”

She let out a moan.

Soft.

Barely audible.

But it slipped through the line like a secret not meant to be shared.

And fuck. . .that moan wrecked me.

I looked down at my cock—thick, weighty, flushed deep with blood. At the crown of my engorged cock, nestled in the swollen head, glinted the gold barbell of my piercing—shaped like a delicate rose.

The petals were smooth, sculpted by a Tokyo artist who owed me a life debt.

No thorns.

Just soft curved petals meant for pressure and pleasure.

The soft cabin light kissed the petals.

I grinned slowly, wickedly, as the ache within me deepened. “Tell me, Tora. . .when you imagined my cock in your dream, did you happen to envision a piercing?”

She hesitated. “A piercing?”

“Yes.”