“Ain’t nobody scared,” I told him. I wasn’t scared, per se. I was with him. I couldn’t imagine being afraid while I was with Quentin. It wasn’t pitch black, but it was dark. The area was lit by one seriously struggling light bulb overhead that seemed like it was mere minutes from going out. “We’re trespassing, and I can barely see anything.”
“What you need to see?” he questioned.
And he had a point, with his cocky ass. His hands found the top of my blouse and pulled it down. My breasts popped right out.
“I know exactly where everything I want to touch is,” he bragged. “I’m very familiar with your anatomy.”
And with that, my left breast went into his warm, wet mouth. I didn’t even bother trying to hold back my moan. It had been way too long since I’d been touched intimately by a man. His hand found its way under my skirt. Moving the seat of my panties to the side, his fingers dipped inside me. I started dripping at the contact and refused to be embarrassed about my arousal. Instead, my hands went to his belt buckle.
He released my breast from his mouth. “I’m running this show, E. Put your hands down.”
I huffed out a frustrated sigh. “I’ve been imagining it for years. All I wanna do is feel the . . . girth. And the heft,” I whined.
He chuckled lightly. “You’ll get your turn, but right now, it’s mine.” His fingers found the swollen bundle of nerves between my legs and squeezed.
I hissed, sucking air between my teeth. He returned to his assault on my nipple, sucking and teasing it until it was so hard and so taut that it was almost painful. He slid a finger inside of me, and then another. I swore I could hear my own juiciness as he moved his fingers in and out of me. I was so turned on that it didn’t take long before I felt the familiar sensation of an impending orgasm building in both my stomach and my vagina.
“Ooh,” I moaned right before waves of pleasure threatened to take me under. My knees went weak, and I creamed all over Quentin’s fingers.
“Good fucking girl,” he muttered, removing his hand from my panties and bringing it to his mouth. I watched as he savored the flavor of me on his fingers. He dipped each one slowly in and out of his mouth. “You taste good as hell.”
“Can we go home?” I practically panted.
She asked if we could gohome. She called my house her home. That shit made my heart palpitate in my chest, because after tasting her pussy off my fingers, she was my fucking home. We barely made it into the house before we were kissing and groping each other. That wasn’t surprising after I’d spent the entire ride from Londynville playing inside her, while she palmed my dick.
In the bedroom, we quickly stripped. The same dick that had been flaccid since the day my wife took her last breath was now standing at attention. I didn’t examine the fact that I wanted Eastley; I just allowed myself to have her. She was on the bed, her back to the mattress. I hoisted her thighs over my shoulders and spanked her clit with my tongue, before pulling it into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around her center, making itevenmore creamy than it already was. And she tasted so fucking good. The little sample that I got at the museum was nothing compared to having her pussy in my mouth.
I licked and sucked. Licked and sucked. Licked and sucked, trying to devour her until she started to writhe under my attack. When she started to wiggle against my tongue, I inserted it and tongue-fucked her. Her back arched, and her hips rolled against my face. I pushed my tongue further inside her.
My name floated from her lips and out into the bedroom, sounding like a plea. Like begging. Like a request. And I loved that shit. It caused me to go harder, to lick her more slowly, to curl my tongue, and to nibble her clit.
Her hands went to the back of my head and pressed me deeper into her pussy. She opened her legs wider, moaned more loudly, and rode my face while I tongue kissed her sensitive bud. We stayed like that—with me pleasuring her in the most intimate way. But soon enough, her moans picked up and grew louder. Her body noticeably tensed, then she relaxed and flooded my mouth with the sweetest nectar I’d ever tasted. I licked her clean while she trembled and rode the waves of ecstasy until they subsided.
“Q,” she crooned.
I didn’t give her any words in return. I simply climbed up on the bed, positioned myself between her thighs, and inserted myself into her pussy. The feeling of penetration was always a heady moment, but with Eastley, the moment was on steroids. Her juiciness combined with her tightness threatened to make me release my load before I even really got started. I pounded into her, working her middle relentlessly.
“Ooh.” She sounded so sweet, moaning my name, her small hands gripping my biceps tightly.
“You feel so fucking good!” I gritted out the words through clenched teeth.
“Same.” She panted, her voice raspy with pleasure ascending in octaves as she came undone underneath me. She visibly quaked as her orgasm overtook her, and waves of satisfaction moved through her body.
I continued to stroke her until I caught up to my own orgasm, cursing loudly as a tidal wave of rapture threatened to drown me. Loads of cum raced from my dick and saturated her womb in spurts. When my balls were finally empty, we lay side by side on the bed. After a few minutes, once I’d caught my breath, I rolled on top of her and started round two. I was already addicted.
Sunday morning, Eastley and I got up for church. She didn’t say much once we offered each other a “good morning.” She moved around my bedroom noiselessly, shooting me secret smiles every now and again that made my heart start to sprint in my chest.
This woman had me feeling things I didn’t think were possible for me to feel. Warmth. And . . . I didn’t know, maybe hope. She made me feel good. She had me wanting to keep that smile on her kissable ass lips.
I watched her walk to the bedroom door, covering her breasts with her hands and wearing the panties she’d worn the day before. Apparently, she found them this morning. I should’ve thrown those things out the damn window, because I wanted to see her naked. I wanted her body on display for me. But it was better that she was covered. Otherwise, I would probably end up fucking her again, and we wouldn’t make it to church. I watched her go, taking in everything about her body like a pervert. Then I made my way to the closet and grabbed something to wear.
I showered, dressed, and then made my way to the kitchen. Eastley was already there, fixing us something to eat. So, I made my way to the French doors and went out to the small flower garden. I gathered pink and purple dahlias. After carrying them to the sink, I began the process of stripping the leaves and trimming the stems.
“Are those for Teagan?” Eastley’s voice was soft and a little bit unsure.
“Yeah. I change the bouquet for her every Sunday.” It felt weird to talk about Teagan with Eastley. Maybe not weird, but I felt a little prick of guilt knowing I was balls deep inside her last night while putting together flowers for another woman this morning. That was weird as hell.
“You told me.” She took a deep breath then huffed it out with a sigh. “Q, are you okay with what happened last night?”
