palette for fermented grapes? Connoisseur? Wine aficionado? Collector? Vintner?” she questioned with a gleam in her eye.
I kissed her nose, leading her into the bedroom. “No details. Your rules.”
She repeated my words.
Moving just out of her reach, I looked her over. It was a chance to gain composure. Control. “On the bed. Legs open.”
“Still instructing, Mr. Guru sir?” she asked playfully as she obeyed my command.
“Something like that.” I pushed her legs up, folding her knee as I covered her body, her legs came over my shoulders and I slid deep inside of her.
“Oh,” escaped from her sexy red lips and she began to move her hips.
“Don’t move.” Stilled, my mouth attacked hers for as long as I could take it.
Needing air, and to quiet the urge to come undone, I focused on her soft skin. As I slowly trailed my lips down her body, I started to, inch by inch, pull out of her warmth. Skimming lightly her neck, collarbone, each shoulder… “You’re driving me crazy,” she whispered. I ignored her words that seemed so foreign—we had never used sentences, let alone full vocabularies while fucking—and continued my path. Taking each breast into my hands and mouth, sucking them, giving them both equal attention, she moaned and squirmed. Those were the verbalizations I was familiar with.
“Don’t move.” I wanted her frustrated, filled with anticipation.
I moved below, across her stomach, planting kisses as I slipped completely out of her. I sensed a bit of a protest and promptly nipped her hip bone, the left and then right. Moving to the center, I drew my tongue straight down to sample her nectar. It was my turn to moan, and use words. “So wet. So delicious.” She pushed into my face. “Don’t move.”
I had her where I wanted to her, mentally. “You’re killing me.”
“With pleasure. What a way to go.” My lips smiled against her plush ones.
“Yesss,” she hissed as my fingers filled her, pumping in and out of her, while I continued to suck and lick her pretty, pink swollen lips. Pulsing and shaking, a beautiful orgasm screamed from her body, rolling on and on until I felt her melt into the mattress, limp.
Moving off the bed, I pulled her legs to the end of it and then I reached down to lift her up and over my shoulder. “What are you doing to me?” Her question was breathless.
“Shower.”
In the bathroom, I opened the glass door, adjusted the water and stepped inside. Settled on her feet, I saw a beautiful woman stirring back to life with a wicked look in her eyes. “Your turn,” she said as she slipped to her knees before my cock.
Chapter Eleven
Willow
O n our last morning, I had Dash all to myself as he was not leading his usual sunrise yoga, in lieu of teaching an afternoon lesson for other instructors. Relieved of one duty, he led me through a multitude of sleepy sex positions. Then, he followed them up by feeding me a scrumptious brunch on his patio with its magnificent beach view before returning me to his bed until he pulled me along to his final yoga session. He neglected to mention that I was to be his partner as he taught the couple’s yoga class.
Moving through each connecting pose, I was feeling more emotions than I’d ever felt for a man. Facing each other, feet together and spread wide, then legs straight with our hands linked rowing, pushing, pulling; the eye contact was almost too unbearable. I knew I was going to miss those denim blues.
I sensed a heaviness for the second time with him. I had never experienced that sensation in yoga as we moved through our standing series: handstands chest to chest, arched heart, double forward bends, and down dog bows. I wanted to be anchored to our spot. Working through simple flyer-base, acro-yoga moves into child pose with alternating lounge and then into a double gate that was similar to a sixty-nine position, the true essence of just how intimate our session was hit me. The weight in my chest
I kissed her nose, leading her into the bedroom. “No details. Your rules.”
She repeated my words.
Moving just out of her reach, I looked her over. It was a chance to gain composure. Control. “On the bed. Legs open.”
“Still instructing, Mr. Guru sir?” she asked playfully as she obeyed my command.
“Something like that.” I pushed her legs up, folding her knee as I covered her body, her legs came over my shoulders and I slid deep inside of her.
“Oh,” escaped from her sexy red lips and she began to move her hips.
“Don’t move.” Stilled, my mouth attacked hers for as long as I could take it.
Needing air, and to quiet the urge to come undone, I focused on her soft skin. As I slowly trailed my lips down her body, I started to, inch by inch, pull out of her warmth. Skimming lightly her neck, collarbone, each shoulder… “You’re driving me crazy,” she whispered. I ignored her words that seemed so foreign—we had never used sentences, let alone full vocabularies while fucking—and continued my path. Taking each breast into my hands and mouth, sucking them, giving them both equal attention, she moaned and squirmed. Those were the verbalizations I was familiar with.
“Don’t move.” I wanted her frustrated, filled with anticipation.
I moved below, across her stomach, planting kisses as I slipped completely out of her. I sensed a bit of a protest and promptly nipped her hip bone, the left and then right. Moving to the center, I drew my tongue straight down to sample her nectar. It was my turn to moan, and use words. “So wet. So delicious.” She pushed into my face. “Don’t move.”
I had her where I wanted to her, mentally. “You’re killing me.”
“With pleasure. What a way to go.” My lips smiled against her plush ones.
“Yesss,” she hissed as my fingers filled her, pumping in and out of her, while I continued to suck and lick her pretty, pink swollen lips. Pulsing and shaking, a beautiful orgasm screamed from her body, rolling on and on until I felt her melt into the mattress, limp.
Moving off the bed, I pulled her legs to the end of it and then I reached down to lift her up and over my shoulder. “What are you doing to me?” Her question was breathless.
“Shower.”
In the bathroom, I opened the glass door, adjusted the water and stepped inside. Settled on her feet, I saw a beautiful woman stirring back to life with a wicked look in her eyes. “Your turn,” she said as she slipped to her knees before my cock.
Chapter Eleven
Willow
O n our last morning, I had Dash all to myself as he was not leading his usual sunrise yoga, in lieu of teaching an afternoon lesson for other instructors. Relieved of one duty, he led me through a multitude of sleepy sex positions. Then, he followed them up by feeding me a scrumptious brunch on his patio with its magnificent beach view before returning me to his bed until he pulled me along to his final yoga session. He neglected to mention that I was to be his partner as he taught the couple’s yoga class.
Moving through each connecting pose, I was feeling more emotions than I’d ever felt for a man. Facing each other, feet together and spread wide, then legs straight with our hands linked rowing, pushing, pulling; the eye contact was almost too unbearable. I knew I was going to miss those denim blues.
I sensed a heaviness for the second time with him. I had never experienced that sensation in yoga as we moved through our standing series: handstands chest to chest, arched heart, double forward bends, and down dog bows. I wanted to be anchored to our spot. Working through simple flyer-base, acro-yoga moves into child pose with alternating lounge and then into a double gate that was similar to a sixty-nine position, the true essence of just how intimate our session was hit me. The weight in my chest
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