Page 33 of Race With The Devil

“Take your cock out, Tanner,” she begged. “I want to stroke it, like you’re stroking me.”

My erection stretched the fabric of my skivvies so violently, half my cock was bare to her ass crack anyway. She clamped her buxom thighs around the length of it, and by her arching she controlled the in and out, the frigging of my dick. I’d dripped pre-come so heavily, it was almost as mind-blowing as actually fucking her.

I had to take control back. I slapped her ass.

“Control yourself, woman,” I growled. Her ear lobe was stretched, filled with a silver ring, and I slithered my tongue through it.

I was relieved that she curled the corners of her mouth into a sexy smile. “I can’t,” she confessed. “But don’t stop!”

I started with the rhythmic flicking again, using the side of my middle finger.

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Now she just sighed, or gasped, or cried out. One of her little hands remained grasping the back of my neck for support, but the other slipped around my backside and, like I had, took a big lusty hand full of my half-bare ass. More pre-come spurted from my slit. Or maybe this was jizz. It was like I was coming a little bit at a time.

I noticed another couple had entered the slot canyon at the far end. It turned me on to no end knowing we were being watched. In fact, it seemed we were inspiring the couple, because the guy, a hipster with a man bun, backed his girl up against the wall and was dry-humping her. He crushed her to the wall, but he was looking directly at us. Even in the darkened cave, the whites of his eyes gleamed like a vampire’s. He was voracious, that was it. He was probably taking his fill of Unity. It made me jealous and proud at the same time.

I kept up the beat against Unity’s clit, trying to sort through my emotions. I wanted to punch that guy on the one hand, and I wanted to invite him to suck her boob on the other. Her pussy juice flowed over my wrist and her panting speeded up. I knew I had to put a pin in this, so with regret I slid my hand beneath her bra once more and pinched her nipple.

That did it.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Her cries became louder and higher in octave until she was the one singing opera.

I spoke to her, snarling in her ear. “Come for me, my sweet Queen of Heaven. I want to feel you come all over my hand, all over my arm. I want to taste your delicious juice.”

Her boob was full-on in the cool cave air now, the little triangle of fabric having been shoved aside. I wondered if the hipster could see the glorious white orb—in my hand. She was mine, all mine! And I was the one giving her the most mind-blowing—or perhaps the only—orgasm of her life.

“Don’t stop—don’t stop—don’t stop—“ she huffed like a train.

Without thinking, I craned my neck extremely, somehow bending and lifting her tit so I could clamp my mouth over it.

“Oh, yeah, dude,” the guy unmistakably moaned.

That did it. Unity fell silent, holding her breath. Her mouth a hard O, she climbed on tiptoes onto the tops of my feet. The thrusting of her hips told me she was violently convulsing, and how I wished I could slide a few fingers inside her to feel the contractions. But now I needed all my wits to juggle the pace of stroking with the sharpness of my biting on her nipple.

It went on and on. She would pass out from lack of air soon. I slowed my stroking to a mushy clockwise petting, and she exhaled hugely. Then inhaled hugely. Then exhaled hugely. Now she would pass out from hyperventilating. I backed off on her boob and murmured in her ear,

“That was excellent, my little queen. You deserve a reward for all that hard work.”

“I thought I was going to die!” she cried, her voice loud even under the waterfall. “Oh!”

She must have seen the hipster, who seemed as though he’d come in his pants from the way he draped himself lazily over his woman.

“Jesus! How long have they been there?”

She was a model, baring her skin and ass for all to see, so I figured it would turn her on if I told the truth. “About five minutes. Long enough to be inspired by you.”

“Oh!” Unity twirled around, and would have grabbed my shirtfront if I’d worn one. Grasping my shoulders, she slammed herself back against the wall, bringing me with her. I had to slap a hand against the sandstone to prevent myself from smashing into her. My hard-on, slick with spunk, mushed up against her belly button charm.

Wrapping one of her bare feet around the back of my knee, she begged, “Fuck me, Tanner. Fuck me now.”

For once I wasn’t ambivalent. I knew the answer to that one. “No, Unity. This is about giving you pleasure. I don’t want to be seen as a threat to you.”

My tattooed stoner model pouted. “Look, you didn’t capture me.”

“What?”

“Capture myopathy. You didn’t make a sudden loud noise or sing opera, and I didn’t freeze to death. See? I’m okay. And look. I’m touching you.”

With this, that little minx reached boldly down and wrapped her hand around the root of my erection.