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“Oop,” she quips, eyes growing wide as her head slants to the right, “Remember that. Because it’s time.”
Grinning in a sly nature, she shows her screen, pointing right to the time. 10:03. Our new third should be on the way. With that thought in mind, Morgan climbs off me, leaving my dick at full salute and neglected. She prances around the room next, applying a new layer of Valentino perfume across her palms, ankles and neck. The moment she wets her neck with the fragrance; the doorbell chirps its familiar tune. We look at each other in unison before the doorbell starts up again. Once, then twice.
“Are you ready for this?” She asks, straightening her robe. Looking so damn good, I’m tempted to say fuck everything and stroke her right there on the floor.
“I’m Big Daddy, baby. I’m always ready for whenever.”
Morgan responds with a sexy smirk, walking slowly over to the door. She starts to head out but stops herself right as she touches the knob.
“Oh, and tonight is all about voyeurism,” she reveals then, “She watches. I squirt.” “Good choice. I look forward to making you squirt too. Be there in a minute.”
Responding with a subtle head nod, she leaves out and closes the door behind her. My dick’s harder than granite climbing off the bed, grabbing a clean black beater to wear once my feet hit the ground. I’m close to leaving out myself, until an idea springs into my mind. I turn around in a flash, heading over to the closet. To the right, there’s a large black box with a texture like Christmas wrapping paper.
After moving a few old bank statements from the top of it, it’s dragged out until it’s near my knees. Inside of it is all kinds of sensual shit. Blindfolds. Cuffs. Vibrators. Gags. Cooling oil. Edible panties. Cock rings. Enough shit to make any porn star blush. Spencer’s looks more like a Walgreens compared to my collection. Shit, I could probably open my own sex shop. Maybe not a bad idea for the future. The item of the night, however, is a pair of handcuffs. Black, furry ones Morgan picked out herself. This feels like the perfect night for them. Once they’re firmly in my right hand, I finally follow wifey out of the room. Heading straight into Ecstasy Island.
Chapter Five
FIRST GLANCE
Morgan
Syren is at the door looking absolutely scrumptious. She’s in a black cutoff dress that says she’s ready for whatever. Cherry red heels. Each ankle is adorned with a gold bracelet. The outside light is shining down on her flawless face, completely bare outside of her tinted plush lips. Her vanilla scented hair is wet like she’d had the longest shower ever before pulling up. The recognizable scent of shea butter harmonizes my soul as we grow closer. Her name makes complete sense. Syren. Siren. I get it now.
“Well, good evening,” I lean against the door, still in awe. Eyes dancing with brightness like a duo of fireflies.
“Hey,” her pretty face breaks into a cute, innocent smile, “I’m sorry if I’m late.”
“No, honey. You’re right on time. Trust me. Come in. Shoes off at the door.”
She’s hastily allowed inside, stepping through the door shyly like a celebrity hiding from paparazzi. The room suddenly rises in temperature. In the presence of her divine beauty, it’s hard to really feel anything. Her pretty self has me just from the scent of her perfume. But her ass immediately becomes the focus. It bounces like a basketball every time she takes a step. She does as she’s told, removing her heels near the front door under my watchful glare. Once barefoot, Syren steps further into our home with amazement brushing over her face.
“Damn, Morgan. This is a beautiful ass home.”
“Thank you, pretty. Hard work pays off,” I reply humbly, standing right in front of her, “Now come here.”
No time for games. She knows why she’s here. My command doesn’t come twice. Syren steps forward immediately, approaching until we’re chest to chest. Every step feels completely organic. Effortless, even. Like she’s writing a book of erotic poetry with her walk. The impulsive urge to touch her becomes too much to ignore. I drag my right hand from her neck down to the small of her welcoming back. Stopping just to enjoy my reflection as it’s modeled in her eyes.
“You are so fuckin’ fine,” I declare right in her ear, dominantly cuffing my arm around her, “Can I kiss you, mamas? I’ve been wanting to since we met.”
“Please do,” she answers back, eyes tight like she’s already been waiting for it, “As much as you fuckin’ want.”
We’re right in the center of the living room, holding each other as my lips finally press across hers. The first peck is a quick test run, simply to feel her softness and appease any nervousness. Though, neither of us really seem nervous. Our first contact actually feels euphoric, like a hot Epsom salt bath after a long day. We melt into each other’s mouths again with light moans forming in our chests.
Once we pull back, we’re both equally pleased by the experience. This is only an appetizer for the night. A sweet sample. Our moment of solitude, expressing whatever we’ve wanted to say since meeting. I can feel her heart beating with force against mine, slowing down only once the action stops.
“How do you feel?”
She answers after humming sounds of joy, “Like I want you to do that again.”
I smack her ass so hard, it hurts my wrist.
“Ask nicely.” “Please?”
She’s begging for it more than words can actually vocalize. We’re so close to each other, I could survive the harshest winters just from her body heat.
“That’s a good girl,” I place my free hand around her throat, “Bring those fuckin’ lips back here.”
Pretty baby lets me take her back inside my world for a moment, dragging her lips around mine for another playful tease. The third full smooch comes with a fully parted mouth and unrestrained tongue. I breathe in the taste of her minty breath as we continue playing tonsil tennis. Syren returns my passion in kind, moaning in contentment while her tongue does a strip dance across mine. I can feel her smiling through the kiss, gripping my waist tighter. I try to pull back, only for her to fight against it. Instead, she holds me in place, and attacks my mouth some more. The necessity for ecstasy is clearly overriding her mind. At this point, only a crowbar could get us away from each other. It takes a second attempt to actually separate with my lips covered completely in her sweetness.
