Her dramatic protests die the moment I spread her legs and put my mouth on her.
She moans as I slowly lick her. We both love this, the slow build, the hard finish that leaves her shaking.
Her fingers tangle in my hair. She holds my head.
“Wait.”
I look up.
“I want to do the same for you.” She breathes, pulling away.
“Lie on your back. Take off your shorts.” She turns onto her knees and hands.
I obey.
She positions herself over me with her pussy towards my face and her face towards my dick.
“Are you okay with this?” she asks softly.
I grab her ass and pull her to my mouth, groaning against her as she meets me.
“Perfect,” I manage, the word muffled against her.
I lick from her clit to her entrance, pushing my tongue inside her tight hole. She arches, pressing down onto my mouth, then takes me in her hand and guides me into her warm mouth.
My mind goes blank. Instantly.
She’s touched me there before, but never like this. Never taken me in her mouth. My eyes roll back as she moves her mouth up and down on my cock. I lose all rhythm in licking her cunt and start eating her out hungrily. She moans with my cock filling her mouth, her speed increasing the moredesperately I suck her clit or thrust my tongue inside her pussy.
The pressure in my balls builds higher. It becomes blinding, making me lose control of my body completely. My mouth moves on its own. Her body shivers on top of me. Her movements become sloppy as she fills my mouth with her warm sweetness. The pressure in my balls moves to my shaft and, like a bow snapping, releases, filling her mouth with my cum.
She climbs off me and turns around, then straddles me again, her pussy pressing against my dick.
Her mouth comes down on mine, kissing me hungrily. I grip her ass, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. My dick hardens again.
I position it at her entrance and push inside. She breaks the kiss and watches me, panting heavily.
Outside, the sky has gone dark. Inside, there’s only a dim light and the sound of us—skin slapping, her moans growing louder.
Chapter 47
Elowen
I scroll through haircut tutorials by Jerry Johnson—the best hairstylist in the world.And I’m the narcissist who thinks she can match him by following his tutorials. My victim? None other than poor Salvario, who’s cooking us lunch while I sit on the kitchen island, plotting the demise of his hair.
His hair has grown so much. He hasn’t had a cut in a month; Antonio usually does it, but he was in Greenland while Salvario was in San Diego.
I close my phone after watchingthe tutorial.
“It’s easy,” I announce. “We’re doing it after lunch.”
He picks up the plates he just finished plating and brings them over.
“I can wait three more days.”
I take the plates. He pulls up a stool and settles in across from me.
“I still want to do it. I want to give you a nice, handsome look of my choice.”
