Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
I just have to remember to say no to anything more. Anything beyond this.
“Yes…” I lean back on my elbows. “You can.”
He barks a hoarse curse and starts to pant, tangling his fingers in the sides of my panties and stripping them down my legs. Licking his mouth until it glistens, the moonlight bouncing off of it, his reverent breath coasting over my slick folds. “I want to try everything with you. I want your first time in every single position to be with me. Standing up, sitting down, on top, behind you.”
“Yes.”
His face tips toward the sky, as if issuing a prayer. And then he worships only me, his tongue parting my flesh in a slow, shallow light, waking up every cell, every hair follicle in my body, making me tremble on the step, moving my thighs open wider, restlessly, leaning back on my elbows.
“I’m going to eat this first, every single time,” he rasps, planting a hard kiss on top of my clit, nudging it with his nose. “Make sure you’re wet.” I hear his zipper come down and look through the scant space between our bodies, watching his heavy balls and long, thick shaft drop down, free of the wet denim, his relieved growl of freedom turning my nipples to pulsing points. “Which way are we going to try next, Allie?” He sips at my sex, gently, then parts me roughly with a stiff, flat tongue, dragging it over that hyper-sensitive bud, making me cry out. “I’ve always dreamed of fucking you standing up. Right there at your locker, taking my dick beneath your skirt, those innocent, pink Mary Janes dangling behind me.”
My arms, which are supporting me, almost give out, that image is so raw, so easy to picture, because I’ve thought of it before, too. Thought of Moore kissing and touching me in the school hallway, instead of sneering and insulting me. I’ve wanted it, yearned for that intimacy with him so badly. Now he’s offering and I’m taking. I can’t do anything but take.
“S-standing up. Let’s try standing up.”
Mid-lick, Moore moans. Lays another kiss on top of my clitoris, petting it once with his thumb. Then I’m being dragged to my feet, the T-shirt whipped from my body, leaving me completely nude. On the porch of this strange cabin in the middle of nowhere. Free of my father’s torment, hungrily kissing the object of my lust, and I feel wild for it. Wild under the glow of the moon, the whisper of the wind and call of forest animals, coming from deep in the inky black.
We stumble backward on the porch toward the entrance, but Moore’s hand stops my back from hitting the front door just in time, his mouth insatiable on mine, our tongues in a continuous tango, slipping and pulling. And we don’t wait, can’t wait. Moore lifts me and I lock my legs around his hips, my back finally meeting the door, rattling the old brass knocker. He doesn’t even need a hand to guide himself to my entrance, he’s as stiff as a pike. The broad head of his shaft nudges, breaches my sex an inch, two—we both suck in a breath—and he drives into me with an upward buck of his hips, flattening me back onto the door.
“Don’t come, don’t come,” he chants to himself, his lower body undulating in tight circles, stroking my tight ring of nerves with the fat base of his erection. “Rub your clit on me, baby. Can’t thrust yet. You’re built so fucking perfect. God.” He exhales roughly into my ear. “Rub it. Come on, rub it so good, wet baby. Do it.”
His unfiltered speech, the raw stretch of his thickness inside of me, my newfound freedom, it all combines and creates an implosion. Of lust, greed, feminine power, and I tangle my fingers in Moore’s hair and ride all over his huge sex. It’s planted so deep inside me, throbbing, his jaw clenched, pectorals flexed, so sexy. So masculine. And I’m driving him insane with every grind and side-to-side rub of my clitoris on his manhood. I’m riding him so hard, our stomachs slap together. Unfettered, unashamed. I look him right in the eye while I’m doing it.
“Oh Jesus, Allie. Jesus, baby. Fuck!”
“Don’t move,” I whimper, my loins quickening, stealing my ability to see or think, all I can do is strain, bear down, whip my hips, faster, faster. “I-it’s happening.”
Seemingly in awe, Moore reverses our positions and leans his shoulders back against the door, thrusting out his hips, giving me a sturdier platform on his lap, more friction, sweet gravity, and every cell in my body screams toward the apex of my thighs, gathering tight, tight, and the orgasm goes through me like a silk spear, making me scream brokenly, my hips still pumping hungrily, needing to wring out every last second of the blessed relief, the wonderfully terrible ticklish sensation that pulsates madly, addicting me to its power.