27. Slippery
CHAPTER 27
Slippery
ALISTAIR
Jesus H. Christ. Every sexual fantasy I’ve ever had disappears when I see Ivy like this, so ripe and ready for fucking. Ass in the air, slick pussy on show … damn. My cock is threatening to burst if I don’t plunge into her right now. I’m trying to play it cool, sitting back and taking my time, but all I want to do is destroy her pussy. I force myself to finish most of my drink, even though my cock is practically pulling me up from the chair to get to Ivy. It’s easy to forget that we’re on a plane. All I can think of, see, and smell is the sensual goddess that is Ivy Mickelson.
“I have to taste you,” I say.
“I don’t want anything but your hard cock inside me,” she says, still stroking herself.
“Too bad,” I say. “I think you’ve forgotten who the boss is here.”
Ivy squirms, swaying her ass and moaning. “I’m so ready, though. I want you now.”
“You’re going to have to wait,” I tell her. I wait till she is exactly where I want her on the table and click the remote to stop the top from revolving.
I take her hips in my hands and start licking her butt cheeks. Ivy moans again. I spend extra time licking the delicate skin on her inner thighs all around her pussy.
“Fu-uck,” she exhales. “So good.”
I stroke myself slowly as I take my time. I don’t want to rush this. Licking, sucking, biting her beautiful creamy skin.
“Please lick my pussy,” she says. “I can’t stand waiting anymore.”
I use the very tip of my tongue to touch her clit, then trail it up to her hole. I know my touch is too light, that it will just frustrate her. I wait for her frustration to build a little longer and then thrust my tongue right into her pussy. Ivy cries out and her legs shake. I broaden my tongue and lick her up and down, over her folds and clit and ramming it into her hole when I get to it.
“Fuck, Alistair,” she moans. “Don’t stop.”
I keep going, hearing her breathing catch over and over. I reach forward and massage her tits, making her moan louder. When I extend my tongue’s trail to her asshole, she stops breathing. I stop and smack her cheek with the back of my hand, connecting with her swollen labia. She cries out in surprise and pleasure.
“Keep breathing,” I tell her.
Panting, she nods.
I grab my glass and angle it just above her asshole, the tip of my tongue on her clit, and slowly begin pouring it down the crevice. Ivy squeals as the icy champagne trickles over her warm swollen lips and into my mouth. I catch as much as I can, drinking it in, lapping Ivy up.
“Fuck!” She starts bucking gently, and I realize she’s about to come. I grab the chilled bottle, accidentally knocking the wine cooler bucket over. The ice clatters dramatically when it hits the floor. I don’t care. I have the bottle. I pour some over Ivy’s back and she gasps, giggling, then I pour the rest over her asshole again, drinking it hungrily from her pussy as she moves against my tongue, moaning and grinding. Some of the golden liquid spills on the tabletop, making it slippery.
“Oh fuck, Alistair,” she whimpers. “Oh fuck.”
I know what that means. I discard the bottle and climb onto the table, not caring about anything but getting my cock deep into Ivy as soon as possible. I can’t wait any longer. I have to take her right now. I flip her over onto her back, spreading her arms and legs, making her a slippery starfish.
She flutters her eyelashes and opens her mouth wide, so I position myself so that I can get my dick in her mouth, get it nice and wet, and then I move down to push it into warm welcoming pussy. An inch already has us both gasping. Another inch, another, and then I drive all the way in. We both cry out. She’s so tight all the way around my straining cock it’s almost too intense, but as I start thrusting the intensity gives way to pure bliss. I growl and grab her jaw with one hand, squeezing her breast with the other. I massage her cheeks and pull her mouth open to kiss her. She greets me with her soft tongue, lips pink and glossy.
I shake my head in disbelief. How is she so fucking sexy? How did I get so lucky?
“Ivy,” is all I say.
She nods, her expression showing me that she’s on the brink, moaning and whimpering as if she’s about to cry. I grit my teeth, willing my body to slow down. It’s too good to rush. I lean down again, sucking her nipple through the band of fabric over her breasts. She starts that rolling moan of hers, the one when she’s almost at the top of the rollercoaster, just traveling up the last bit of track the moment before careening down.
“I fucking love that sound,” I say. I want to hear that sound every day for the rest of my life.
I take one long slow deep breath then plow into into her with everything I’ve got. We’re slipping all over the smooth wet table as I thrust away to the sound of her moaning. The pitch gets higher and higher, as if it’s the inner soundtrack to my own mounting climax. She starts slipping away on the table so I grab her and pull her back toward me, smashing into her as I do so. Her pussy clenches me harder than I’ve ever felt it, making me double over, but I don’t stop moving inside her, angling toward her G-spot.
“Fuck-fuck-fuck,” she murmurs into my ear. And then she sobs my name as she comes, squeezing my cock as it erupts into her.