Voyeur - Lacey Alexander [52]
A moment later she said, “Does one of them have knee joints and the other one doesn’t?”
He’d never thought about it like that before, but he laughed lightly and said, “Yeah, the guy on the left has knees.”
“Got ’em,” she said triumphantly.
“Good girl,” he said, following the urge to slide one hand up to caress her breast.
“Mmm,” she purred in response, still looking at the constellation. “I didn’t realize astronomy could be so much fun.”
“It’s about to get even more fun,” he promised hotly in her ear, aware that his cock was growing hard against her lovely ass now. He’d been half hard through dinner, slowly growing more aroused by the mere sight of her and, admittedly, by the sweet, trusting control she let him have over her. Her breast was full and weighty in his hand through the fabric, and he massaged lightly, catching the taut nipple between thumb and forefinger. She whimpered gently, rubbing her sweet bottom against his increasing erection and eliciting a soft moan from him as the sexy moves stiffened him more.
“Are you still looking at the stars?” he asked, dropping his other hand from her slender waist to stroke into her denuded pussy.
“Oh . . .” she sighed, then said, “Yes, I’m still looking.” But her voice had gone beautifully breathy.
“You’re so wet for me already, honey,” he rasped, raking his fingers through the welcoming moisture—deep, deeper.
“Although,” she said, her words coming between weak breaths now, “I don’t think . . . the twins . . . are both guys. I think one of them . . . is a girl.”
He relished her sweet dewiness as his fingers made longer, stronger strokes through her slit. “Yeah?” His breath came hard, too. “Which one is she?”
“The one with the knees. I think she has knees . . . so she can do this.” With those words, she turned in his grasp and knelt before him, eagerly extracting his raging erection from his underwear to go down on him.
“Jesus God,” he breathed as she took him deep into the recesses of her pretty, wet mouth. “Oh God, yeah.”
His sweet Laura moved her lips up and down his shaft while he watched every glorious second of her enthusiastic affections. He’d noted she was particularly good at this in the shower, but this was a very pleasant reminder, far sooner than he’d expected.
“Oh yeah, baby, suck it,” he prodded her, as turned on by the sight of her head moving over him as he was by the sensations her mouth so skillfully delivered.
He slid his hands to her face, ran the tips of his fingers down around her lips where they encased him. “Look at me,” he said, lifting her face toward him.
She raised her gaze, and when their eyes locked it was all he could do not to come. He’d told her to look at him, but he suddenly couldn’t return the favor, letting his head drop back with a deep groan. “Oh God, baby, good,” he managed through clenched teeth.
He’d gotten blow jobs from countless women in his thirty-five years, some of them damn good ones. But something about this one, from this girl, in this place, this isolated moment in time, was different, better, exciting him more, hurtling him closer to orgasm quicker than he could ever remember.
So much that he forced himself to gently push her away, until his drenched cock sprung back against his stomach. “Much more of that sweet mouth and I’ll explode in it.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” she said, still kneeling before him, peering up, that black kimono casting only a pale shadow over her perfect body.
“Have you ever?” he asked, curious. “Swallowed?”
She shook her head. “But I would. For you. If you wanted me to.”
His whole body went weak. From another woman, the sentiment wouldn’t have mattered so much, but from Laura, spoken so solemnly, so surely, the gesture overwhelmed him.
He took her hands and helped her to her feet. He lifted his palms to her face and kissed her, brisk but deep, and even that left him feeling light-headed. He leaned his