Page 141 of Sinners Reunion

I point down a dark hallway, and we turn in that direction. She finds the correct room on her first try, and I fumble for the light switch as she closes the door behind us. It’s a dimmer switch, so I turn it on low.

Josie paces the length of the bed, her thumbnail gripped between her teeth. Not the body part I imagined going into her mouth, but no matter. I mentally talk down the raging erection in my shorts as my heart tries to thump out of this black A-shirt beneath the ridiculous pineapple number. Perhaps talking was all she had in mind.

“Something the matter?”

She steps closer to me. At first, I worry she’s about to cry, but her hands find my sides with a nervous sort of confidence. A shiver runs through me as her touch glides over my skin.

“Take off my clothes,” she whispers. “Slowly.”

Her fingertips dig into my back as she nips my chest, almost testing the taste of me, and then she steps back. This is wholly unlike her, so unsure and timid. There’s something different about her tonight. An innocence. A delicate vulnerability.

I unwrap her like a gift. As I pull off her shirt, her breasts beg for my mouth, but I don’t dip my head toward them. I wait for her next command.

“Lie on the bed,” she whispers once I’ve stripped her naked, and I love that she sounds more sure of herself now. Her confidence isn’t quite at its usual level, but it’s climbing.

She walks me backward, and when the backs of my knees hit the mattress, I fall. She climbs on top of me and straddles my waist, then reaches for my hands and places them on her breasts. I enjoy their warmth and weight. I stroke my thumb over her nipples, just to watch her twitch.

Her head tips back, and she rolls her hips, grinding her pussy over my hardened length. She’s sopping; my khaki shorts darken where she drags her needy slit.

I’m dying for a taste.

The little mind-reading minx climbs off my lap and straddles me once more. This time, however, her pussy hovers above my mouth. She’s facing away from me, as if she’s craving a sixty-nine, but I soon find out why she chose this direction.

“Strip,” she says. “I want you to jack-off while you eat me.”

She leans forward and helps me lower my shorts until I can kick them off. Then she grips the bottom of my shirt and rips the flimsy material all the way up my chest, leaving the hideous pineapple shirt intact and still on my person. Her hands run over my abs, and having her plump pussy this close to my mouth without getting a taste is actual torture.

“Touch yourself,” she says. “I’ll sit on your tongue when I’m ready.”

I’m salivating at the very thought.

My right hand fists my cock, and I pump my shaft for her. Pre-cum wells to the tip, and I rub it over the head with my thumb. Josie lets out a moan. I’m tempted as her pussy clenches above my lips.

“Slower,” she whispers, and I tighten my grip on my cock while slowing my strokes.

My fist moves up my shaft, and Josie rocks right above my lips. If I stick out my tongue, I can get what I want, but I’m being a good boy. I’m waiting.

She rewards me by dropping her hips and giving me what I crave.

My tongue pushes through her warmth, and as I grind it in circles against her, I keep my head still so that she can position her pussy exactly where it feels best. I’m more than happy to let her man the helm. I only hope it helps her in the way she needs.

“Faster,” she moans, and I’m not sure if she means my hand or my tongue, so I say full steam ahead and crank the speed on both.

My hand rockets over my cock as my tongue enjoys lapping against her until it’s numb.

“Yes,” she whispers.

She’s close.

I keep the pace, though I’m dangerously close to giving her a facial she didn’t ask for. Then her legs quiver, and her head flies back as she bears down on my mouth. I lap up the proof of her orgasm like life-giving water. Maybe it is. Maybe she’s magic, and I’ll be invincible after this night.

I stop stroking myself, because this was never about me. It usually isn’t when it comes to Josie, and that’s why it had to be her. That’s why it never could have been anyone else.

It wasn’t just the challenge of kissing her. She isn’t one challenge to conquer. She’s a constant bloody challenge.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Josie climbs off my face and straddles my waist again. As she looks down at me, she bites her lip, but it’s not playful. It’s contemplative. She traces my lower lip with her thumb.