Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jolie took me by surprise when her mouth crashed into mine, the warm, plumpness of her mouth raising the sexual connection we’d always shared.
A soft, breathy moan left Jolie’s mouth and fell into mine the moment I grabbed her left tit firmly in my palm and squeezed it tight in my hand.
Seconds later, Jolie broke away from me, desperately fumbled at the hem of my sweater and the T-shirt underneath, then stripped it from my body in one fluid movement.
“Oh, God,” she mumbled, as her shaking hands smoothed from my six-pack to my hair. “I love chest hair,” she muttered, as she pressed her lips at various points of my torso, neck and head.
Grabbing her wrists, I stopped her dead in her tracks. “Breathe, baby, this isn’t a race, you need to slow down, or you’ll have me living up to my sixteen-year-old reputation when I lost my virginity to Audrey Gillingham.”
Moving onto my knees, I felt breathless as I gazed longingly toward Jolie, then I stood, undid my belt buckle and zipper, and shucked myself out of my jeans.
“It’s true,” she said, chuckling.
“What is?” I asked, wondering what myth I might need to dispel while I stared down at my thick, fully erect cock.
“Rock stars don’t wear underwear,” she replied, chuckling. She reached out, took my cock in her soft, warm hand and started to stroke me with just the right amount of pressure.
“Fuck,” I hissed as my eyes involuntarily closed for a second to absorb the rapturous thrill that ran through my body. “Habit … the no underwear,” I replied once I was able to respond. “It gets too damn hot up there on stage.”
“Well, if they come between you and your performance, I won’t complain that you don’t wear any.”
I chuckled as I pulled my wallet out of my back jeans’ pocket and took out the strip of three condoms inside.
“Three rounds?” she asked, raising a brow.
“It was a three packet my personal assistant gave me. Besides, any more than three and they make my wallet bulge,” I muttered, stilling her hand on my cock, taking it away from her, and pushing her back on the bed.
“Anyway, enough of the talking and more of the feeling and tasting,” I admonished.
Stripping her out of her jeans, her small pink thong and freeing her tits from her cropped top. My mouth watered when my eyes raked down her curvy body and settled on her bare, shaved pussy.
“God, you’re beautiful … better than I imagined.”
She chuckled, then ran her fingers through my hair. She grabbed a clump close to my scalp and it was just the right side of my pain threshold.
Holding me captive in her gaze she whispered, “Kiss me.” So, I did.
I kissed her breathless, my heart exploding with every swirl of our tongues as they dueled in a passionate, dance of desire.
I pulled away when kissing her lips wasn’t enough anymore.
After that I kissed every inch of her body, peppering some in places where she’d likely expected me to, and a few I figured she’d not fathomed I would.
“Holy shit! Stop,” she snapped, her blue eyes wild with desire as she stared down her body toward me. I did as she asked but eyed her warily with my head between her thighs, her clit firmly in my mouth.
“I want you inside me,” she pleaded.
“Not ‘til you come,” I mumbled around my full mouth, with her clit lightly clamped between my teeth.