Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [45]
His breath rained down heavy, labored, and he whispered, “Baby . . . oh baby . . . so fucking good . . . so deep . . . so deep.”
Maybe other women didn’t try this hard, and it pleased her immensely that he thought her a skilled lover. It also persuaded her to press herself a bit farther, until the tip of his cock touched the back of her throat. She worked hard to relax the muscles there—and then she began to move. Up and down. Taking him in and out. Never as deep as that first, slow, still descent, yet as far as she comfortably could, continuing to push herself with each stroke.
“Oh yeah, honey, suck me. Suck my cock. You suck it so good.”
She’d never particularly enjoyed such talk before, but from Braden she did. Perhaps since they’d met through sex, since everything they’d shared was about sex, it made it okay for this to be about nothing more than animal impulses, carnal desires, raw, unadorned, and dirty. She’d never known dirty could be so good.
She continued working over his erection, caressing his balls with her hand, listening to his sounds of hot delight from above. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so energetic, so unfettered, free to follow urges without worrying what anyone would think or how she would feel afterward. Her experiences with Braden and the webcam had been a difficult initiation to such feelings, but knowing it had brought her here made it worthwhile.
“Baby,” he growled lowly, his hands in her hair. “Baby, stop now.”
When she ignored him, he gently lifted her head until she was forced to release him. She peered up, wondering why he’d stopped her, and wondering if her lips looked as stretched and swollen as they felt.
“I don’t want to come yet,” he said, his voice dark with passion. “I want to lick your hot little cunt again.”
She felt her face flush with heat. “But I already came. So good,” she said, remembering the force of the orgasm. “I want to make you come now.”
But above her, Braden simply shook his head, silently reminding her that he was calling the shots here, and that she’d agreed to let him do so.
“I want to lick you again,” he repeated, “because this time it’s going to be different.”
She blinked up at him. “Different how?”
“I want to really see your cunt, honey. Want to really feel it. I want you to shave your pussy for me, Laura.”
Laura swallowed, hard.
She knew some women did that—women in porn magazines, and in the erotic story she’d read the other night. But she’d certainly never thought about doing it herself. Something about it seemed . . . beyond risqué. But then again, everything about this trip had gone beyond risqué, days ago.
She pushed slowly to her feet, finally forgetting about his cock for a minute, so that they were face to face. “It would be more arousing to you . . . bare?”
He gave a short, simple nod. “I want to see all of you.”
She tried to swallow back the various sorts of nervousness suddenly striking her. “I’ve never . . . shaved there before.”
“Then you’d better be careful,” he said, voice deep, commanding. He stepped up close to her and slipped his hand between her legs to cup her. “I want you to be as slick and smooth as a peeled peach.”
Laura drew in a deep, fortifying breath. Part of her was scared to death. But she tried to tell herself that was the old, conservative her—not the new, wild, sensual her that Braden had unleashed.
“Wh-where should I . . . ?” she began brokenly.
He pointed toward the marble bench. Two disposable razors and a can of shaving cream sat in the corner. She’d noticed the small mirror near the nozzle, and that Braden had left for skiing this morning clean-shaven, so obviously he shaved in the shower.
As she walked toward the built-in bench, situated at the opposite end from the flow of water, she asked herself if she could really make herself do this. The last time she’d asked that question had been right before she’d used the vibrator for him. In comparison,