Page 55 of Cherry Picking

I find it incredibly sexy, irresistible to touch. When I finally lick her folds, she sighs, blowing a long, sultry breath.

“You taste just like I dreamed you would.”

She lifts her head slightly. “You dreamed about me, huh?”

I lick her again, tap her clit with my thumb. “Tried not to.”

“Why?” she pants.

“I think you know.”

“Because you’re celibate. Right.”

I may not be having regular sex with strangers, but I’m certainly not that. That’s a term reserved for priests and marathon runners.

Indignant, I swirl my tongue over that taut bundle of nerves, lapping at it for a few seconds. “It’s because you’re a brat, actually.”

She gasps, bucking her hips. “I am not.”

“Exhibit A.” I brace myself on one arm and lean back to press a splayed hand against her pelvis, trapping her to the mattress. “If you want me to make you come, you need to keep this cunt right where I want it.”

“Jesus Christ.”

When I slide two fingers inside her, curling up against that spot, she whimpers. I stroke a few times, pumping in and out, pushing into the narrow space above.

Judging by the feral sounds she’s making, she seems to like that very much.

“Tell me, pretty girl, do you want more?”

“Mhmm.”

I keep my fingers where they are, bringing my lips back to her clit. Then I gently pop it into my mouth, sucking while she wraps her legs around me.

When I hum against her, she threads her fingers through my hair, roughly tugging the strands, and my cock jumps in my pants. I’m still fully clothed from the waist down, which is going to be a problem soon.

I could come just like this, entranced by the tight suction of her cunt around my fingers, the sounds she makes while I get her off.

“You okay if I touch myself?” I ask.

“Hmm,” she murmurs, eyes closed, lashes fanning over rosy cheeks.

“Can I fuck my fist while I eat you out?”

“Oh, oh,” she replies, half moaning. “Hell yeah. Please do that.”

I slowly withdraw my fingers and bury my tongue inside of her instead. She gasps as I slide my hand across her waist, cupping her breast. With the other, I reach into my boxers and grip my cock.

“Oh, God.”

She shakes, walls fluttering around my tongue as she comes undone around me.

I’m not gonna last more than a few minutes after that. I know I won’t. It’s been too long, and she tastes too good. The sight of her shaking has me wishing we’d done this the first time we met, circumstances aside.

I don’t want this to end. But I also know I’ll be able to come twice if I get the chance to be inside her. And if I don’t, at least I’ll go out satisfied on the best night I’ve had in years.

I stroke myself a few more times, surface for air, and ask, “Where do you want me to come? Do you have a towel or something?”

She pushes herself up on one elbow. When she opens her eyes, she stares down at my pumping fist, silent for a good thirty seconds, watching as I get myself off on top of her.