Chapter 9 #3
This fucking couch really was too small. He was hunched over, his back uncomfortably tight as he shimmied her panties and jeans down her legs. Dosia lifted her knees towards her chest, giving him easier access to remove her sneakers and then clothing.
“Scoot up a little,” he instructed, needing to relieve the pressure on his legs and back. Dosia did as he asked, but Pumpkin stayed where he was. “Open your legs. Spread them wide for me, baby. Let me see all of you.”
Dosia’s cheeks flamed, but she did not hesitate as she spread her thighs. Fuck, what Pumpkin wouldn’t do for the opportunity to photograph her. To immortalize her beauty, this moment, forevermore.
Instead, he took his time memorizing her.
From her purple-tipped blonde hair to her wide caramel eyes and adorable button nose covered in a dusting of freckles; from her rounded cheeks, slightly larger than average ears, and kissable lips to her neck that he longed to bite; and down to her plump breasts with large areolas and nipples still red from his attentions; to the softness of her belly with light markings that stretched around her sides and wide hips.
He saved the best for last as his eyes trailed over each long leg to her painted toenails and back up until he finally landed on the apex of her thighs.
She was neatly trimmed, the black hair covering her labia proving that the carpet did not always naturally match the drapes.
Her pussy was pink and glistened in the overhead lighting from her arousal.
And like a dog summoned to his master, Pumpkin crawled to her.
He laid down as flat as he could. He lifted her leg that was over the back of the couch to his shoulder.
Starting at her knee, he kissed his way to her core.
Fuck, what he wouldn’t give to have her splayed out on his California King bed.
Then he amended what he wouldn’t give to have her tied to his California King bed. He wasn’t into a lot of the heavier kinks, but bondage with a trusted partner? Hell yeah, he was into that.
The sweet tang of her arousal was all he could smell. He wanted to gather up her juices and coat every of inch of himself in it. It could be his new body wash.
He just got his mouth over her when his back spasmed. Pumpkin cursed. They were going to need to switch positions. Again. Christ, this was annoying, but thankfully, Dosia didn’t seem to mind.
He pinched her ass. Dosia jumped, letting out a yelp of surprise. “Hands and knees.”
She blinked, “What?”
“Get on,” Pumpkin said sternly, “your hands and knees.”
Dosia watched him for a second before shifting. She carefully twisted her legs around until she was able to spin without risk of kicking him. Then that fucking beautiful ass was right in front of him. Pumpkin dropped a kiss to her left cheek.
“Has anyone ever been here before?” He made the location of his inquiry known by blowing between her crack at her tight pucker.
Dosia stiffened. “No, and you aren’t either.”
Pumpkin chuckled. “Never say never, baby.” He nipped her right cheek. “Scoot up. Tits over the armrest.”
She obeyed so well. Pumpkin certainly had a domineering presence in the bedroom.
He liked it when women let him play, to control.
That Dosia seemed to do so naturally only cemented just how right they were together.
They’d figure everything else out, but this?
Pumpkin hoped sex between them continued to get better and better, especially as he healed more and regained muscle and flexibility.
Flipping onto his back, Pumpkin slid his shoulders through her legs, hooking her knees on his upper arms.
She stared down at him wide-eyed, like she couldn’t believe he was there of all places.
He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Now, sit, baby. Ride my tongue.” When her cheeks flushed red and her mouth popped open in shock, Pumpkin chuckled darkly, knowing where his breath was going. “Consider it practice for when you ride my cock, because you’re doing that next.”
What was she doing? What was she doing? Dosia had no good answer or explanation. How had they gone from finally talking about the daughter they shared to having sex on her love seat? Come to think of it, the couch name was apropos.
All of her sanity had left her, or maybe she never had any to begin with, because Dosia lowered her throbbing core directly down onto his mouth. She’d never been so turned on in her life, and his dirty talk only made her blood boil hotter.
The roughness of his beard tickled her legs as she hovered against his lips. She tried to balance most of her weight on her elbows on the arm of the couch.
Pumpkin nuzzled his nose against her sensitive clit, making her jump. When he spoke, she felt his hot breath inside her, like he was using her vagina as a megaphone. “Sit down or I will make you sit. Doesn’t matter to me,” he placed his hands on her hips as if in warning. “The result is the same.”
“I hurt your legs by sitting on your lap. I don’t want to hurt your mouth too.” When she’d told Dosia of his injuries last Sunday, Frankie had said he’d shattered most of his teeth. They looked, well, fixed now, but she didn’t know if he was sore there too.
A growl rumbled up low in his belly as his hands tightened on her hips. “My mouth works just fine. Here—let me show you.”
With a tug, Dosia tumbled forward, her pussy slamming down onto his lower face.
Dosia had no recollection of his dream, or possible memory, of him eating her out six years ago.
Any of her other relationships generally involved fingering as foreplay or just heavy petting.
She’d only ever had one boyfriend go down on her, but his lack of enthusiasm had made the experience nothing short of boring.
Pumpkin, in no way, lacked enthusiasm.
Dosia gasped, her thighs trembling, as Pumpkin’s lips, tongue, and breath worked in unison.
She’d thought his kisses—the ones on her mouth—had been good?
It was like he was French kissing her pussy, his tongue sliding in and out of her as he nibbled and sucked.
Her heart raced as she fought to remember how to breathe.
While his hands were still on her hips, Dosia was the one moving.
She hadn’t even realized she was doing it at first, thrusting herself up and down on his mouth.
A tsunami of shock, desire, and ecstasy washed over her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.
“Pumpkin!”
He growled, ripping his mouth away from her. Dosia let out a whine of protest at the loss. “‘Seth,’” he told her, his voice deep and guttural. “When I am inside you, I’m Seth.”
Dosia looked down her naked body to meet his eyes.
Maybe it was the lust that made his brown eyes seem almost black or how close she felt she’d been to an orgasm before he’d torn his mouth away.
She’d never felt playful during sex before, never felt comfortable enough to even attempt it. Yet it seemed so natural now.
“But you’re not inside me, Pumpkin .”
His nostrils flared against her labia. And then he moved his hands. One went to her stomach, pushing her back slightly. Still over his face, but more on his chin than his mouth. The other hand?—
“Oh, fuck!” Dosia exclaimed when two fingers thrust inside her wet entrance. There was no gradual entry, no easing inside. He plunged them in to his last knuckle. It wasn’t painful, though. Surprising, yes, but not painful.
“Say it,” he growled.
His fingers curled, searching. It only took him a second before he touched that spot inside her that even she sometimes doubted existed. Liquid fire replaced the blood in her veins. “Great Goddess,” Dosia gasped out.
“Uh-uh,” Pumpkin scolded, not relenting as his fingers stroked her G-spot again and again. “Tell me what I want to hear, Dosia.”
She could barely breathe, barely think. How the fuck was she supposed to remember something he wanted to hear when he was touching her so? An orgasm built low in her belly. Her eardrums felt like they were about to pop. Her gasps became near whines. She was so fucking close. She needed… She wanted…
His hand reached up, pinching her nipple none too gently.
“Seth!” Dosia cried out as her inner walls clamped down on his fingers and the world spun into a vortex of euphoria.
Pumpkin chuckled low. “Good girl,” he said before latching onto her clit with his mouth.
He brought her right back to the edge, or maybe her first orgasm never officially ended. Either way, Dosia never wanted him to stop.
Pumpkin carefully lowered Dosia onto his chest. A sheen of sweat coated them both, but the fire burning inside him kept him toasty warm.
He worked his hand into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.
After two orgasms, Dosia was boneless and didn’t seem to be registering his movements.
Pumpkin, though, was far from done with her.
This intoxicating, wondrous woman was going to be the death of him.
His nose, beard, lips, and neck were saturated with her juices.
He fucking loved it. A little too much, to be honest. Towards the end there, he had to think about some pretty nasty things to keep from blowing in his pants.
Dosia had no idea just how fucking gorgeous she was.
Stretch marks? Baby weight? Fucking hell, she had a woman’s body.
A mother’s body. What fucked-up, motherfucking asshole put it in her head that her body was anything less than exceptional?
Whoever it was, Pumpkin wanted names. He and Scar would go hunting.
Pumpkin placed the corner of the condom’s foil packet between his teeth as he tossed his wallet onto the floor. Working his belt and pants open, he let out a slight hiss as the cool air from the room hit his cock. He tore the packet up, needing to feel the hot vice of Dosia’s pussy around his dick.