Chapter 13 #2
Scooping her in my arms, I peel off her blouse, then unhook her bra. I kiss her as I flick the pieces of clothing away, although I don’t think anything could distract her—or myself—from the fact that only a skimpy pair of panties separate our naked bodies now.
Pushing myself down her body, I cup her breasts and kiss her nipples.
No more bites now, only soft licks and gentle tugs of my mouth.
Her eyelids flutter half closed, her gaze going glassy and unfocused as I devote myself to learning her breasts.
Her skin is impossibly silky, it begs for attention, and her nipples are gorgeous.
Almost flat until they meet my tongue, they pop into the sweetest raspberry-shaped peaks when aroused.
And my girl, my bride, is definitely aroused. I can smell the sweet honey she’s making for me, and it’s fucking with my head. I don’t want to let her go. I need to find a way to do this again, and again, until she needs me as much as I’m afraid I need—
No. I can’t put that on her. I can’t pressure her.
Pushing my face into her belly, I force myself to focus on the here and now. On this gorgeous woman and the pleasure she deserves for being brave and strong over the last few days.
One day, I’ll ask her about the shock she felt when she opened that envelope.
Not tonight, though.
I tug her panties down her hip, just a few inches, taking my time. Revealing this last private part of her like the gift that it is, precious and sweet and valuable to me.
Her creamy skin is paler behind the soft cotton, a lifetime of this tender skin being hidden at the beach and at the pool, but not here. Not in bed, not hidden from her new husband.
Mine.
I’m suddenly dizzy with need, and I know I’m too rough as I tear her panties away, but it’s been so long, and I didn’t know I was waiting for her, but I was, I was, I was, and now that she’s mine, it’s so hard to hold myself back.
Everything narrows to the sweet tremble of her belly, her tiny exhale that’s still so fucking loud as I brush my lips over the soft dark brown hair on her mound, and then my first look at her glistening honey, a teasing drop clinging to closed, pouting lips.
My need intensifies. “Spread your legs for me.”
I help, impatient and hungry.
Her thighs fall open, her pussy blooming. My hands look too rough against her inner thighs to deserve such sweet perfection.
“You’re so pretty.” I brush my thumb light as can be along her outer pussy lip. She’s so fucking pink, so slick already. “I need to taste you.”
She squeaks as I lower my head.
I pause immediately and look up at her. “Okay?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“I’m the first to taste you, yes?”
“Yes.” Her pupils are fully blown as she stares at me. “I …”
I wait. But she doesn’t finish that thought.
But after a hesitant moment, she tilts her hips, an invitation I can’t pass up. I lower my head again and kiss her pussy, a soft press of my lips at first, to her curls, and then the slick inner folds, where she tastes like musk and pleasure.
I’m the first to taste her.
And I’ll do whatever it takes to be the only man to know the taste of my wife.
Not selfish at all, being possessive of her youthful innocence.
My balls throb at the reminder.
Her virgin pussy is only mine because of an accident, but it is still mine. And that might be selfish, but I will make up for that by making her come and come and come again.
I drag my nose up to her mound, my tongue following, licking up and around her clit. The little bundle of nerves jumps against the direct contact, and I settle in, hooking her thighs over my shoulders, ignoring the way my cock throbs against the mattress.
Eating out my wife might just make me come again, and that’s a fucking miracle. I don’t remember the last time I came twice in a day. Or even in a week.
I jerk off, of course I do, but it’s a physical self-care thing, a response to an abstract hormonal urge. I think about breasts or soft thighs, and it’s over quickly.
Now?
I’m going to take myself in hand every goddamn night of the upcoming road trip, and it won’t be abstract at all.
It’ll be me spilling all over my belly, embarrassingly fast, as I remember this taste, this punchy sweet tang of my wife’s pussy grinding against my face as I suck her clit against my tongue.
I only let go long enough to slide my hands under lush ass and lift her hips higher so I can spear my tongue into her tight little hole to taste where that honey comes from and drag more of it up to her clit.
“Jeff …” She pants my name. “Jeff, I’m going to …”
Fuck yeah.
“Let go,” I mumble in between sucks. “Let me taste your orgasm.”
Her thighs tremble against my shoulder, her clit throbbing in my mouth. I work my hand in between us and slide one finger into her pussy, and she immediately clamps down on it, her legs slamming shut around my head.
Fuck. Yeah.
I keep sucking as she climbs to the peak, her body going tighter, tighter, tight, and then she shudders, a gorgeous orgasm rolling through her entire body, from her toes to her head and back down again.
She collapses back on the bed.
I climb on top of her, my thighs pressing her legs wide, my cock slapping heavily against her belly as I brace my arms on either side of her head. “How was that?”
“Oh, Grandpa.” She laughs breathlessly as I gently slap her swollen pussy with my cock for the reminder of our age gap. “That was incredible.”
And the teasing is immediately forgiven.
“Incredible, huh?” I drag the underside of my swollen dick against her clit. “Good. That’s very good. But I think we can do better than incredible for number three.”
“You’re a wild man, Coach.” Her breasts heave as she exhales and wraps her legs around my hips. “But yes, please, show me better than incredible.”