drenching her cunt with still more desire.
Before she knew it, their mutual excitement drove her to do something entirely new. She pulled the crop away from his ass, laying it across his lower back as she used both hands to spread him there, study him. She’d never really had much occasion to examine a guy’s asshole so intimately, but given that this was Ty, her lifelong dream man, she couldn’t have been more deeply thrilled. She stroked the fissure with the pad of her thumb and he moaned, something that she sensed grew from deep in his gut. A second caress produced the same effect, arousing her to her inner core, her very soul.
Drawing in her breath, glad he couldn’t see the little experiment she was about to indulge in, she stroked her fingers between her thighs, getting them wet. Then she rubbed her juices in a gentle circle over his anus, watching it open slightly. He uttered a soft, light gasp that pleased her immensely.
Her heart beat faster as she repeated the motion, this time massaging the wetness in, applying more and more pressure to the hot little circles her fingers made.
“Uhhh…” he growled deeply and she knew he liked it.
Would he like what came next?
Taking up the crop again, she studied the handle—nicely rounded and covered in smooth black leather, no seams.
She drew in her breath, her chest tightening in anticipation, as she began to rub the tip of the riding crop’s handle in a small circle over Ty’s anus.
His groan stretched enormously, seeming to fill the room and drown out the partying and music still wafting up from Bourbon Street below.
She rubbed harder, harder, working it, pressing it gently, until the handle began to slip inside.
77
Lacey Alexander
“Ah, God!” he yelled.
From shock or pain?
She stopped in mid-insertion, going still. Then she bent down to gently kiss his ass next to where the riding crop now entered. A purring sound left him and he lifted his ass toward her—toward the crop.
She smiled as a sense of fulfillment whirred down through her, settling deep in her pussy. She slid the riding crop’s handle in a little farther, and he began to move up and down, fucking it.
Her every sense was on alert now, every pore of her skin extra-sensitized from watching his lovely ass take the riding crop inside, from knowing he wanted it and that she was delivering it.
He moaned softly at every stroke, and she pushed the handle deeper, deeper, making him cry out louder. Soon she was fucking him harder and whispering, “Yes, baby, yes,” thrilled at her achievement.
But then she wanted more of him— had to have more.
So she carefully climbed down off the couch—still holding the crop in place, still gently fucking his ass and drinking in every hot moan and groan that left him—to kneel beside the sofa.
“Turn onto your side, facing me,” she said, a soft command.
He hesitated, and she could understand why, given that she was fucking him with something so long and gangly and that shifting his body might be tricky at the moment, but she said, “Do it,” anyway.
He turned slowly, and she carefully moved her tool along with him.
When she saw his face, she was filled with…God, with what? Some emotion that almost buried her, strangled her. He looked so pleasured, and it was all because of her—she was giving this to him.
“This is…the most intense sex I’ve ever had, Mina.” 78
Mardi Gras
Her voice came out in a mere whisper. “For me, too.” Then, still holding the riding crop in place, she bent to take his lovely cock in her mouth.
A ferocious groan erupted from him, pleasuring her profoundly as she took as much of him as she could, passionately sucking, working him over without reserve, rewarding him for his obedience this one last time.
She slid her lips up and down until her mouth felt stretched and achy and her hand cramped from the awkward angle of holding the crop at his ass, but his sounds of deep enjoyment spurred her on, making
Before she knew it, their mutual excitement drove her to do something entirely new. She pulled the crop away from his ass, laying it across his lower back as she used both hands to spread him there, study him. She’d never really had much occasion to examine a guy’s asshole so intimately, but given that this was Ty, her lifelong dream man, she couldn’t have been more deeply thrilled. She stroked the fissure with the pad of her thumb and he moaned, something that she sensed grew from deep in his gut. A second caress produced the same effect, arousing her to her inner core, her very soul.
Drawing in her breath, glad he couldn’t see the little experiment she was about to indulge in, she stroked her fingers between her thighs, getting them wet. Then she rubbed her juices in a gentle circle over his anus, watching it open slightly. He uttered a soft, light gasp that pleased her immensely.
Her heart beat faster as she repeated the motion, this time massaging the wetness in, applying more and more pressure to the hot little circles her fingers made.
“Uhhh…” he growled deeply and she knew he liked it.
Would he like what came next?
Taking up the crop again, she studied the handle—nicely rounded and covered in smooth black leather, no seams.
She drew in her breath, her chest tightening in anticipation, as she began to rub the tip of the riding crop’s handle in a small circle over Ty’s anus.
His groan stretched enormously, seeming to fill the room and drown out the partying and music still wafting up from Bourbon Street below.
She rubbed harder, harder, working it, pressing it gently, until the handle began to slip inside.
77
Lacey Alexander
“Ah, God!” he yelled.
From shock or pain?
She stopped in mid-insertion, going still. Then she bent down to gently kiss his ass next to where the riding crop now entered. A purring sound left him and he lifted his ass toward her—toward the crop.
She smiled as a sense of fulfillment whirred down through her, settling deep in her pussy. She slid the riding crop’s handle in a little farther, and he began to move up and down, fucking it.
Her every sense was on alert now, every pore of her skin extra-sensitized from watching his lovely ass take the riding crop inside, from knowing he wanted it and that she was delivering it.
He moaned softly at every stroke, and she pushed the handle deeper, deeper, making him cry out louder. Soon she was fucking him harder and whispering, “Yes, baby, yes,” thrilled at her achievement.
But then she wanted more of him— had to have more.
So she carefully climbed down off the couch—still holding the crop in place, still gently fucking his ass and drinking in every hot moan and groan that left him—to kneel beside the sofa.
“Turn onto your side, facing me,” she said, a soft command.
He hesitated, and she could understand why, given that she was fucking him with something so long and gangly and that shifting his body might be tricky at the moment, but she said, “Do it,” anyway.
He turned slowly, and she carefully moved her tool along with him.
When she saw his face, she was filled with…God, with what? Some emotion that almost buried her, strangled her. He looked so pleasured, and it was all because of her—she was giving this to him.
“This is…the most intense sex I’ve ever had, Mina.” 78
Mardi Gras
Her voice came out in a mere whisper. “For me, too.” Then, still holding the riding crop in place, she bent to take his lovely cock in her mouth.
A ferocious groan erupted from him, pleasuring her profoundly as she took as much of him as she could, passionately sucking, working him over without reserve, rewarding him for his obedience this one last time.
She slid her lips up and down until her mouth felt stretched and achy and her hand cramped from the awkward angle of holding the crop at his ass, but his sounds of deep enjoyment spurred her on, making
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