She pushes at the gathered waist of the jumpsuit, forcing it over the exaggerated flare of her hips and ass.
“Door number two,” she laughs huskily. “I promise you can eat me out later.”
The dark blue silk slithers down her long legs. She steps out of the jumpsuit, standing in her panties and bra and heels. She doesn’t wait for me but shimmies out of her underwear.
“Bra, too,” I order, my voice gruff with desire, my mouth slack with awe.
Her body is made with a reckless disregard for resistance. Full, firm, heavy breasts tipped with chocolate kisses. There’s a decadent fullness to her hips and thighs and ass. Aiko is extremely petite, and I’ve never compared the women I’ve been with. But by my response to Kimba’s body, I could tell myself I just never realized I’m a breast man. I’m an ass man. A leg man. All the things Kimba has in abundant beauty, but that would be a lie. Kimba could be smaller. Bigger. Less toned and less smooth. My preferences aren’t defined by what a woman has, but by who this woman is.
I’m a Kimba man, and I think she’s ruined me for anyone else.
I don’t want anyone else.
She strips off the bra and reaches for the heels.
“Keep them.” I catch her hand, linking our fingers by her head against the door. “Let’s fuck.”
“I have one request,” she says breathlessly.
“What?”
Her eyes drop between us and she licks her lips. “Can I suck your dick just a little bit first?”
Somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good. I look up to the heavens and offer a silent alleluia.
“You may,” I manage to grit out.
Our gazes tangle, and she pulls her hand free of mine, opens my belt, slides down my zipper, and pulls my pants and boxers down until my dick appears.
“Oh.” She sighs, holding me with one hand and caressing my balls with the other. “This is good. This is very good.”
The tip is already leaking and engorged. I’ve always been a man of few words and she’s talking too much. I push on the elegant curve of her shoulder, pressing her to the floor, to her knees. She takes me into the warm, wet world of her mouth, sucking me, licking up and down my shaft like I’m one of the ice cream push-ups she used to love.
The sight of this powerful woman on her knees, naked except for her costly shoes, devouring my cock, just about undoes me. Saliva spills from the sides of her mouth as she takes me so deep her throat closes around me. Sounds strangle in my throat. I close my eyes in brief, beautiful agony, but open them again because the sight of her doing this is too riveting. Her nipples brush against my legs. I imagine my tongue dragging from the top of her pussy and between the firm, naked globes of her ass. I want to spread her and eat until my tongue aches. When I see her hand moving between her legs, that’s it. I can’t take another second.
“U
p. Now, Tru. Shit.” I groan, fitting my hands under her armpits and pulling her to her feet.
I push her fingers, wet with her juices, into my mouth. It’s ambrosial and I lick every trace of it away and bring her fingers to my nose.
“Fuck, you smell good.” I drop her hand abruptly and grip under her thighs, hoisting her up, aligning our bodies. “Dammit, condoms.”
“I’m…” She licks her lips and lowers her lashes. “I’m, um, protected, and clean.”
“Me, too. Can we?” When she looks up, a shadow in her eyes gives me pause. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Her smile chases the shadow away and she links her ankles at the base of my spine, rests her back against the wall and grips my neck. “You don’t need a condom. We’re good. Let’s do it now.”
Now.
Forever. Always. Never end.
I plunge inside and it’s a rhythm in my head echoing the rigor of our bodies. Her pussy contracts, squeezing my dick, and my reason, my thoughts scatter. The house could burn down around us as long as this door and the two of us were still standing and fucking against it.
My hands clench under her thighs, holding her in place while we grind together, crushing the desire between our bodies. I reach the end of her with a rough thrust. Her breath catches and her eyelashes flutter. I hit that spot again and again until her eyes roll back in her head and her arms fall away from my shoulders and she’s limp against the door, me supporting all of her weight while my thrusts grow more frantic, out of control. She bites her lip and tears roll down her face.
“Jesus, Ez,” she whispers, her lashes dampening on her wet cheeks.