Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Different, equally mind-blowing.
I bellow a curse up against her drenched seam of flesh, shoving my face into her soft flesh, panting, my mind racing with possibilities and flavor combinations and…Jesus. I have to get more. I lap at her like a madman, her sweet juices a delicacy on my tongue. Her thighs are pried wide and I’m devouring her, her cries of pleasure egging me on. As if I could stop.
My girlfriend has a cunt made of pure gold.
The taste of her arousal is stoning me, while simultaneously turning my cock to a thick bar of steel. I’m going up in flames, humping the air desperately, her flesh squishing on my tongue, so wet she should be illegal.
Son of a bitch.
What am I going to do?
No doubt, I’m going to bust.
Soon.
The tip of my tongue finds her clit and rubs gently, her ass lifting and slapping back down on the marble island with a cry of, “Daddy!”
By everything holy, I can’t stop consuming her.
My dick should be buried inside of her by now and I should be riding her into oblivion, but an army of men couldn’t drag me off this delicious cunt. Every drip of her bliss hits the back of my throat and opens up new worlds, new colors, new possibilities
She’s a dream. A cure-all. She can’t be real.
“Claire,” I moan against her parted flesh. “It’s just like your mouth, but different.”
“R-really?”
“Yes. Keep your legs open for me,” I beg thickly. “Goddamn.”
I look up at her delicious body and find her huffing and puffing, her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, a fine sheen of perspiration breaking out on her tits. I commit her to memory just like this. In the seconds before the first time that I make her orgasm with my tongue, because it’s going to be far from the last. I’m not sure I’ll ever make it through a day again without splaying her thighs open and eating this singularly delicious dessert that can’t be found anywhere else. Every part of this girl is a five-star feast.
“I think I’m…c-c-coming!” She falls back flat on the island, and I go with her, grunting and panting at the apex of her thighs, flickering her clit in a fierce repetition. “Oh, please!”
I push two fingers inside of her, my knees nearly giving out to find her so unbelievably tight and while I finger her, pumping my digits in and out slowly, she releases a dainty gush, her thighs locked in twin earthquakes around my face. Pleasure rocks all my senses, and I’m cast to some utopian state at the flavor of her climax.
There is simply nothing like it in this world.
Sweeter than sweet. Fresh plum. White chocolate. Champagne. An unknown.
Keeping my two fingers as deep as they’ll go, I lap at her pussy greedily, savoring every single drop of perfection, reeling at the flavor profile, the sounds she’s making while letting me imbibe. Horny little mewls that will forever occupy my head. My cock is distended and engorged against the lower cabinets, dying for what my tongue has the honor of tasting.
I need to fuck her.
Now.
Somehow, I manage to remove my mouth from the damp heaven between her thighs, her beauty bowling me over. Stumbling me back. Has she been made more beautiful since we arrived at the apartment? She’s a siren leaned back on her elbows, nudity laid out in front of me like a gift from God. I’m not sure where I find the control to reach for the stainless-steel refrigerator handle with my left hand, opening it and removing a pot of stewing apples.
“What’s that?” she asks in between reedy breaths.
“I’m not a dessert chef, but I make an apple tarte tartin on occasion,” I say raggedly, barely able to concentrate with my dick so stiff. Still, somehow I proceed to carry the pot to the counter beside Claire. Setting it down at her hip, I remove the lid and stir my still-wet pair of fingers through the sweet concoction.
Both of us exhale in disbelief as the contents of the pot turn a deep, dusky rose.
“Oh, my goodness,” Claire whispers, dipping her pinky into the pot and bringing it between her lips, her pupils dilating so rapidly, I reach out to steady her, afraid she’s going to lose consciousness. “Oh, Draven!”
Eager to experience the same bliss as Claire, I bring the entire pot to my lips and tip it sideways, gulping a mouthful of magic. Pure fucking magic.
All because of her pussy.
“I’ve fallen for the eighth wonder of the world, haven’t I?” I mutter, tossing aside the pot and dragging my girlfriend into my arms, partaking of her drugging mouth as I carry her to the bedroom, overcome with lust at the way she clings to me, giving, willing, soft, eager. “No one can know what you’re capable of, little girl, or you’ll be stolen from me,” I say sternly, laying her down on top of my bed where she nods at me with unhesitating trust. I must keep her safe. I must guard her from the frenzy she’s capable of inciting. “You are priceless. In every way. You’re priceless without the way you taste, Claire. But Christ, you’re also a drug that can’t be manufactured. People would be desperate to get some if they knew.”