“And three, as amazingly sexy as this pink nightie is, the only thing I want to see for the rest of this night is my Sweet Caroline, and I need to
see you.” He panted in my ear as he picked me up, straight up, and my right leg went around his waist on its own.
Once again, the Universal Law of Wal banger dictated that legs went around hips when they were offered.
He walked me backward to the bed and set me down gently. Leaning over, he pushed me backward on to my elbows. Shirt hanging down off
his shoulders, he winked at me, nodding at his state of undress. I reached forward, crooked one finger behind the button on his khakis, and
snapped it open. Seeing no peek of boxers, I gently nudged his zipper down just an inch or so, exposing the happy trail that led down, down, down
to where al good things were found. Sweet mother of pearl. Commando.
“You got something against underpants?” I whispered, raising one knee and forcing him between my hips. Forcing. Right.
“I’m against your underpants, and isn’t it a shame they’re stil there?” He smirked, pushing his hips into me, letting me feel everything.
I dropped my head back, silently pushing down Nerves when she threatened to bubble up just a smidge. Piss off, Nerves. This was happening.
“No shame. I have a feeling they won’t be on for long.” I sighed, laying back to stretch my arms over my head, lengthening my body against his
and encouraging his lips to further dance along the hol ow at the base of my col arbone. I could feel him licking and sucking between my breasts. I
arched into him, anxious to feel more. I needed more. He began peeling the straps of my nightie down, baring me and al owing him the access he
needed to make me orbit the planet.
Feeling his mouth on me, on my breasts, hot and wet, tickling and sloppy, was unreal. So I told him so.
“That feels unreal,” I moaned in to the top of his head as the scruff from his light beard roughed my skin pleasantly. His lips closed around my
right nipple, and my hips went off on a tangent of their own, bucking wildly beneath him, both of my legs now wrapped firmly around his waist. Lips
and tongue and teeth now lavished across my cleavage, which spil ed out over the edge of the nightie as he alternated between breasts, loving
them equal y. I was surrounded by Simon, and even his scent was turning me on, equal parts peppery spice and thick Spanish brandy.
Nonsensical words poured from my mouth. I was aware of a few “Simons,” and one or two, “Yes, that’s good,” but mostly what I overheard from
myself were things like “Mmph,” and “Erghh,” and a rather loud “Hyyyyaeahhh,” for which, frankly, there is not a correct spel ing.
Simon sighed over and over again in to my skin, his actual breath a turn on as I felt it wash over me. My hands had been left free to roam in the
wonderland that was his hair, and as I swept it back from his face I was rewarded with the amazing sight of his mouth on me, his eyes closed in
clear worship. He bit down lightly, closing his teeth around my sensitive skin, and my hands almost tore the hair from his head. It felt phenomenal.
His other hand was running up and down my leg, encouraging me to grasp him tighter between my thighs as his wondrous fingers began to
come ever closer to the edge of the lace. It was the last boundary we had yet to cross: the lace frontier.
I felt my breathing stil as he went on final approach, his fingers brushing just under the edge of my panties, barely brushing. His breathing
slowed as wel , and as he continued to touch me gently, his face came back up to mine, and we had this moment, this quiet moment, where we
just…stared. Awe—it’s the only way I can describe the feeling of his hand ghosting over me, delicately, reverently. Our eyes locked as he eased his
hand further underneath the lace and then, with achingly perfect precision, he touched me.
My eyes fluttered shut, my entire body awash with so many sensations. My breathing started back up again, the intense pressure that had been
circling al around and inside and out was now like a low-level hum, just beneath the surface of my skin. I moved with him, feeling his fingers begin to
explore me, and I let out the tiniest moan. It was al I could let out. The feelings were so intense and the energy—oh my goodness, the energy that
surrounded us in that moment.
I was sure Simon was unaware of the entirety of the emotion that flew around behind my closed eyelids. The poor man was just final y getting a
little touch. But as his fingers became more deft and sure of themselves, something incredible began to happen. That teeny tiny little bundle of
nerves, which had been dormant for centuries, began to spark to life. My eyes flew open as a very specific warmth began to move through me,