Page 74 of Personal Foul
One of her eyebrows raises. “I never said that.”
With a soft laugh, I resume paying attention to her tits, nipping the underside of the left one this time, then soothing it with my tongue.
Slowly, I make my way down her torso, stroking her skin with my fingers and dropping kisses here and there until I get to her belly button, stroking the skin underneath it with my thumb, then dipping just beneath the waistband of her pants. She wore wide leg linen—or at least linen look—pants, and they have a simple elastic and drawstring waist that’ll come off her legs in no time. Assuming that’s okay.
I drop a quick kiss on her belly button before meeting her eyes. “Are we rounding the bases tonight?”
That cracks her up, and she drops her head back on the pillow and covers her face with her hands as she laughs, her tits jiggling in the most gratifying way. “Oh my god. Even football players use bases, huh? Not touchdowns? Or field goals?”
“I mean, I could change analogies if you prefer. Do I also need to go for an extra point after the touchdown?”
Her hands come down and she eyes me, her expression a mix of laughter and curiosity. “What would that entail, exactly?”
With a cheeky grin on my face, I shrug. “An extra orgasm?”
“Sold.”
Laughing, I kiss her belly again, enjoying the feel of her skin under my lips. “So that’s a yes? We’re going for a touchdown and an extra point?”
She’s cracking up again, but her, “Yes,” is as clear as day, and she lifts her hips when I tug her pants down and off, taking a second to admire her pretty pink thong—not the same shade as her bra, but nice all the same—before giving it the same treatment.
Then she’s naked before me, her sweet little pussy nearly hidden between her still closed legs. She keeps things neat and trimmed, and she puts up no resistance when I slide my hands up her inner thighs and part them.
I let out a low sound of satisfaction as I meet her eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this for ages.”
She laughs like I just told a joke, which seems to be her go-to response to me tonight. “Ages, huh? Seriously? You propositioned me for the first time less than a week ago.”
Grinning, I shrug. “It feels like ages, anyway.” She doesn’t need to know that just because I waited until our date night to say something about having sex doesn’t mean that was the first time I thought it.
She’s right, though. I guess it really hasn’t been that long. Has it really only been a few weeks since she showed up, begging me to keep her secrets? And now look at us.
Who would’ve guessed we could end up here?
I drop a kiss on her inner thigh, which silences any remaining laughter. And when I glance at her again, she’s watching me, her face serious, though hints of mirth still lurk at the corners of her lips and in the twinkle in her eyes.
That or her eyes are bright with lust. Could go either way.
Thumbing her open, I give her a long lick, and she lets out a shuddering breath, her head dropping back on the pillow again.
Satisfied with her reaction, I do it again, starting slow, giving her a long warmup before focusing on her clit.
She pushes her pussy into my mouth when I get there, her hips working in tandem with my tongue to get to the right places. When I sink a finger inside her, she clenches around me. I’m not sure if it’s voluntary or not, but either way I take it as a good sign.
Adding another finger produces the same response, and I move slowly, gently, rubbing the upper wall of her pussy until she gives a big enough reaction that I know I’ve found her G-spot.
I hold her there, pinned with my hands and my mouth, working her until she’s letting out little gasps and moans of pleasure, her thighs squeezing my shoulders, her entire body tensing up.
She makes a soft, “Ah, ah, ah!” each time I tap her G-spot, and I redouble my efforts on her clit, sucking it between my lips while flicking it with my tongue. Her whole body tightens like a spring about to release, and then she’s bucking against my face, her legs shaking, her pussy convulsing around my fingers as her orgasm hits her.
I stay with her, not letting her accidentally move away, keeping it going as long as I can until she reaches down and taps my head, gasping, “Enough. Enough.”
Withdrawing, I wipe my mouth with my hand, painfully aware that my dick is still trapped in my pants and in desperate need of relief. We’ll get there, big guy, I reassure it. We just need to give Charity a second to recover first.
She holds her arms out to me, and I settle over her, gathering her into my arms and giving her a quick peck. Some chicks don’t like kisses after I’ve gone down on them, but Charity doesn’t seem to care, kissing me back and opening for me.
She’s not content with that, though, and pushes me off her, her hands going for the opening of my pants.
“Was that the touchdown?” she asks. “Or does the extra point come first?”
