Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Her eyes go wide but before she can protest, I dip my head down, taking her lips between mine, kissing and sucking them. Sliding my right hand between us I cup her left breast, circling and brushing over the top of her nipple with my thumb, causing it to harden and pebble. She gasps from the arousal and her lips part, allowing my tongue to dip into her mouth where I kiss her deeply, enjoying how sweet she tastes. Squeezing her nipple between my thumb and index finger, I twist and pull it hard, making her arch her back into my hand, wanting more. “How many men have touched your tits like this, Miss Field?” I ask against her lips. She doesn't answer, clearly lost in the sensations I’m giving her. My dick grows hard watching her come undone from my touch.
She moans louder, throwing her head back, exposing the beautiful curve of her neck. Grabbing it between my teeth, I gently bite it as I wrap my lips around it, sucking and licking every inch of her skin down to her breast. Slipping her breast in my mouth, I twirl my tongue around her nipple then flick it with my tongue before grabbing it with my teeth. She lets out a purr and arches her back farther into me. My dick is so hard I can feel it digging into her leg. Releasing my teeth, I mutter against her tit, “How many men have had your beautiful tits in their mouth?... Tell me, Miss Field.” She moans as her hips push against me, but she still does not answer. I lightly kiss a path back to her lips. Taking them in mine, I kiss her passionately as I circle my index finger lightly over her soft skin, down her stomach to the top of her shorts. Brushing my finger there a few times, I push my hand under them. Then running my hand over the top of her panties, I reach down between her legs where I feel the heat and wetness of her pussy through the thin material. It is all I can do not to rip them off and shove my fingers inside her. Cupping her pussy in my hand, I release my lips from hers, grab the hair at the back of her head with my left hand, and force her head so her eyes are level with mine.
“Open your eyes, Miss Field,” I whisper. Her eyes open, the haze of arousal over their dark centers has me lost for a second as I look at the beautiful doe-eyed girl beneath me. She slowly blinks, breaking my lust-filled trance and I ask, “How many men have kissed, sucked, licked, or fucked your sweet pussy, Miss Field?” The haze lifts from her eyes as a pool of tears takes its place, her lips start to quiver and her arms come up, pushing against my chest, trying to push me away. I won't let her up, I'm not going to let her go without an answer. Grabbing her wrists in my hands, I sit up, straddling her between my knees as I push her arms down beside her head, pinning her to the couch. “No, answer me,” I demand.
She shakes her head from side to side, “None.... none of it,” she whispers, her voice strangled with tears. Sighing, I nod. Letting go of her wrists, I get off the couch and then scoop her up. Sitting back down, I place her on my lap between my legs with her back to my chest, hugging her tightly against me. I lean down, putting my face into the crook of her neck and ask, “How?... How is that possible? You are beautiful.”
“I don't know.” A single tear escapes her eye, landing on my right arm. Leaning back up, I put my face in her hair, inhaling her vanilla and nutmeg scent.
“How old are you?” I ask as I softly stroke her hair where I just kissed her. “Nineteen,” she mutters. Nineteen? I knew she didn't look old enough to buy that beer.
“Didn't you have a boyfriend in high school?” I ask, still stroking her hair. “No,” she mutters, embarrassed.
“You’re nineteen, so you just graduated high school a year ago, right?”
“No, four years ago,” she replies, sniffling.
“Okay, I'm confused. How is that possible?” I ask, removing my hand from her hair. Leaning over to look at her, I continue, “You would have been fifteen.”
She goes on to explain how she was moved ahead, how she was so much younger than all the boys around her in high school so they treated her like a kid sister, not someone they would want to date. “Fuck, that explains a lot.” I shake my head.
“What do you mean?” she questions, turning her head to the side trying to look at me.