His tongue wormed its way into my pussy, deeper, wiggling around and touching me in all the right places.
The tide inside me rose higher and higher as I tried to keep on top of the boiling intensity. I trembled as every so often, pleasure jolted through me, every second more intense than the last. He lapped at me with great focus. He paid attention to my clit, making every bit of me feel his touch, his worship, his lust.
I writhed beneath him, panting, calling out his name, but what I didn’t do was stop him—which was what I should have done. The closest I came was a brief attempt to grab a handful of his thick, soft hair and pull him away from my pussy, but even that was a halfhearted attempt, because I didn’treallywant him to stop. It just made him laugh softly and continue with his divine machinations.
The pace became quicker, more intense. The point of no return had long since been crossed, and there was no way I was going to hold on for much longer. I dug my nails into the leather of the sofa, trying to fight it off, but ultimately it was all for naught.
One more thrust of his fingers into me, one more suck of my clit, one more stroke of my aching pussy, and I was absolutely lost to him. Every bit of bliss shot through me, flooding me, claiming me. I bit down a scream as the pulsing orgasm washed over me, so much stronger than what any man had done to me before him.
He was good. Damn good.
Too good.
“Holy moly poly!” I said as I lay sprawled on the large leather sofa.
Mark, for his part, didn’t look at all ruffled.
I mentally did a quick catalogue. Had I been grooming down there? I had taken a shower before the meeting, so that was good. I hoped it wasn’t a dire situation down there. Mark at least didn’t look as if he’d had a bad time of it. He brushed a sweaty lock of my hair out of my face.
“And I thought the best thing that was going to happen today was getting my dinosaur taco holder,” I joked.
“You’re buying a dinosaur taco holder?” Mark asked, confused, as I hastily pulled on my clothes.
The elevator dinged, and Liz and Ivy walked into the space while I jumped up, clothes still half done, and sprinted to my sewing.
Don’t mind me. I’m just here engaging in a wholesome activity.
Liz beamed at me and set a paper sack on the counter. When she took out the containers, the smell of fried chicken and tangy sauces hit me.
“You need something after that workout?” Liz asked, handing me a chicken tender.
“I uh—”
“You’ve been sewing really hard,” she continued. “You have that bodice almost done. You must be starving.”
I looked down. The bodice was upside down, and I had been making sewing motions with a needle that had no thread. I hastily stuffed it into my bag.
“What did you two get up to while we were gone?” Ivy joked.
I stuffed a piece of chicken into my mouth so I didn’t have to answer.
“Do you want a french fry, Mark?” Liz asked. “Or did you already eat?”
I choked on my chicken tender, and Liz clapped me helpfully on the back.
Ivy launched back into the discussion on the seating arrangement and general program of the reception. And I tried to pay attention. It was uncomfortable to sit next to Mark for the rest of the meeting. He wore an expression like the cat that had stolen all the cream and opened a giant dairy department store and was making a million dollars a day.
And me? All I could think about was Mark’s tonguetheredoingthatand how I somehow needed more of it.
27
Mark
Fuck, that was addicting.The sounds Brea had made, the way she had moaned when I licked her pussy, the way she had shuddered when she came then came again…All I wanted to do was bend her over and fuck her.
Unfortunately, I had to leave and actually go to work after the meeting. All through the parades of presentations and requests for my attention on some matter or the other, I thought only of Brea.
Unfortunately, every time I tried to prod her into seeing me again, she came up with some excuse.
