pants down over her hips.
"Really, love," he insisted as he came back up to her for a kiss. "I can't wait to show you the world. And I think you're going to love our first stop."
"Which is...?" she asked, shoving his head back down to the wetness between her legs.
He kissed the insides of her thighs tenderly. Holding onto her hips, his kisses made their way closer and closer to her beautiful, slick vulva. Her hips began bucking, urging and begging to connect her clit with his mouth.
He stopped, grinned, and looked up at her again.
"Paris, mon amour. "
His mouth crashed against her soaking cunt and he sucked her clit vigorously. Two of his fingers slid inside her achingly tight pussy and he beckoned her to come.
As Helena's orgasm exploded, her hips rolled in a wave against his hand and mouth, but he rode it. Again, and again, and again.
Chapter 18
Helena
Helena stared at her ceiling, wondering the last two days had been a dream. She glanced across the bed to the man next to her.
Torsten breathed softly as he slept, his expression peaceful.
What a beautiful man.
Her eyes roamed over his outstretched, naked form in her bed. The sun rose high after their busy morning, and the window light exposed every detail of his body. She wanted to explore him. His body was like a sexy landscape of limbs and muscles.
The white sheets contrasted sharply with his tattooed skin, dotted in some places with scars and light freckles. His beard looked rough and wiry against the fluffy pillow case. She recalled how soft it felt when he kissed her mouth, her breasts, and her clitoris.
In her kitchen, Torsten made her come with his mouth and fingers until she went completely numb from the waist down. They took a quick breather by jumping in the shower, but he couldn't keep from lifting her in his arms and fucking her against the shower wall.
They had barely finished and toweled off before he carried her to bed and helped himself to her freshly washed pussy for another round.
After collapsing in exhaustion, Helena slept better than she had in months. She was amazed at how safe and comfortable she felt with him, despite barely knowing him at all. Beneath the cocky, arrogant rock star facade, she saw glimpses of sincerity and caring.
"Mmmph." Torsten stirred and groaned as he sleepily opened his eyes halfway, and half-smiled at her. "Morning, beautiful."
"Um. hi. It's afternoon now, actually." Suddenly self-conscious in the bright light, she covered her chest with the sheet.
"Semantics," he muttered as he attempted to pull her closer, but she reluctantly pulled away.
He rubbed his eyes and looked at her more alertly. "Is something wrong?"
She glanced down at the threads of her sheet before answering. "We just... had all this sex, and it was probably more times than my husband and me in our last year together. He's the only other person I've been with, and I barely know you. And it's just weird that you know him, probably better than I did. I don't know, I guess I'm trying to reconcile how weird this all is."
Torsten pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. The tenderness of the gesture made her heart flutter. "It's only as weird as you make it out to be, love. Everyone has a past. Some more colorful than others." He smiled. “Just don’t run out on me again.”
She scooted closer, allowing his arm to drape across her waist. “So what’s in your past?”
“In terms of weird sexual situations? I’ve never fucked a band mate’s wife before,” he joked with a light smack to her ass.
“I mean, in general, you perv,” she laughed, smacking him back. “Although I’m sure you’ve had plenty of weird sex situations.”
“Not necessarily.” He shrugged. “A few here and there, but my sex life is pretty boring for my industry. That’s what I get for being married to my work.”
“What’s boring? BDSM? Threesomes? Steady girlfriends?” She asked the last one in a mocking
"Really, love," he insisted as he came back up to her for a kiss. "I can't wait to show you the world. And I think you're going to love our first stop."
"Which is...?" she asked, shoving his head back down to the wetness between her legs.
He kissed the insides of her thighs tenderly. Holding onto her hips, his kisses made their way closer and closer to her beautiful, slick vulva. Her hips began bucking, urging and begging to connect her clit with his mouth.
He stopped, grinned, and looked up at her again.
"Paris, mon amour. "
His mouth crashed against her soaking cunt and he sucked her clit vigorously. Two of his fingers slid inside her achingly tight pussy and he beckoned her to come.
As Helena's orgasm exploded, her hips rolled in a wave against his hand and mouth, but he rode it. Again, and again, and again.
Chapter 18
Helena
Helena stared at her ceiling, wondering the last two days had been a dream. She glanced across the bed to the man next to her.
Torsten breathed softly as he slept, his expression peaceful.
What a beautiful man.
Her eyes roamed over his outstretched, naked form in her bed. The sun rose high after their busy morning, and the window light exposed every detail of his body. She wanted to explore him. His body was like a sexy landscape of limbs and muscles.
The white sheets contrasted sharply with his tattooed skin, dotted in some places with scars and light freckles. His beard looked rough and wiry against the fluffy pillow case. She recalled how soft it felt when he kissed her mouth, her breasts, and her clitoris.
In her kitchen, Torsten made her come with his mouth and fingers until she went completely numb from the waist down. They took a quick breather by jumping in the shower, but he couldn't keep from lifting her in his arms and fucking her against the shower wall.
They had barely finished and toweled off before he carried her to bed and helped himself to her freshly washed pussy for another round.
After collapsing in exhaustion, Helena slept better than she had in months. She was amazed at how safe and comfortable she felt with him, despite barely knowing him at all. Beneath the cocky, arrogant rock star facade, she saw glimpses of sincerity and caring.
"Mmmph." Torsten stirred and groaned as he sleepily opened his eyes halfway, and half-smiled at her. "Morning, beautiful."
"Um. hi. It's afternoon now, actually." Suddenly self-conscious in the bright light, she covered her chest with the sheet.
"Semantics," he muttered as he attempted to pull her closer, but she reluctantly pulled away.
He rubbed his eyes and looked at her more alertly. "Is something wrong?"
She glanced down at the threads of her sheet before answering. "We just... had all this sex, and it was probably more times than my husband and me in our last year together. He's the only other person I've been with, and I barely know you. And it's just weird that you know him, probably better than I did. I don't know, I guess I'm trying to reconcile how weird this all is."
Torsten pushed a lock of hair from her eyes. The tenderness of the gesture made her heart flutter. "It's only as weird as you make it out to be, love. Everyone has a past. Some more colorful than others." He smiled. “Just don’t run out on me again.”
She scooted closer, allowing his arm to drape across her waist. “So what’s in your past?”
“In terms of weird sexual situations? I’ve never fucked a band mate’s wife before,” he joked with a light smack to her ass.
“I mean, in general, you perv,” she laughed, smacking him back. “Although I’m sure you’ve had plenty of weird sex situations.”
“Not necessarily.” He shrugged. “A few here and there, but my sex life is pretty boring for my industry. That’s what I get for being married to my work.”
“What’s boring? BDSM? Threesomes? Steady girlfriends?” She asked the last one in a mocking
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