Page 54 of Tormenting Me

I put her down on the bed, and then flop down next to her. Layne stares at me.

“Seriously?” she questions, a smirk on her face.

“One,” I count.

“Wes, seriously. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Two.”

“Okay, Jesus!” She laughs, sliding her thong off. “Is this like your therapy when you’re stressed out?”

“Three. And it is now. Thanks for the idea, baby.” I wink at her.

Layne straddles my head, facing away from me. But she doesn’t sit; she fucking hovers.

“Four,” I growl.

“I’m right here.” She argues, her voice a little more high pitched.

“I told you to sit. You’re hovering. Fi—,” and before I can finish, Layne sits down. My lips and chin wet from her dripping arousal. I devour her like a starving man. I slip my arms over her thighs, anchoring her to my face.

“Wes. Oh, fuck,” she whimpers as her thighs quake in my grasp. My tongue dives inside, savoring the taste of her. I lean her forward, so I have better access to her clit, sucking and teasing the swollen nub.

“Do you want to come, baby?” I ask, slowly licking up her pussy.

“Uh huh, “she moans, wiggling her ass a little.

“Then lean forward and suck my cock while I suck on your pretty little clit till you drown me.”

Chapter thirty-two

Layne

Wes continues to eat my pussy as I undo his belt. He lifts his hips so I can pull his pants and boxer briefs down. I pause with my hands on his hips, moaning as his tongue flicks over my clit. “Oh, fuck, Wes. I don’t think I can. Not when you’re doing that.”

“You want to moan, Ma Petite Mort? Moan around my cock. Show me how much you love me eating your pussy, baby.“ Wes pulls my thighs back down, nipping at my clit with his teeth.

I turn back to his cock, precum beading at the tip. I lick from the base upward, feeling him shiver underneath me. The head of his cock hits the back of my throat. I angle myself so I can take all of him. Wes lifts his hips, pushing his cock further into my mouth, making me gag. My throat constricts around him, causing a groan to slip from his lips.

“Fuck, Layne. You do such a good job of taking my cock down your throat.” He mouths against my pussy. “Come all over my face, Ma Petite Mort. Let me taste that little piece of death that only I bring to you.”

My head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowed, trying to keep pace with how he is eating me. Wes gently bites down on my clit and that was the catalyst I needed to shatter. I moan around his cock as my orgasm crests. Wes thrusts his cock once, twice, then shudders underneath me, filling my throat and mouth with cum.

I sit up and wipe the saliva and cum from my chin. Wes rolls underneath me and flips me so I am on my back. “Such a good girl.”

Two words from my husband that make my pussy throb…Good Girl.

Sunday morning, Wes is up and in the kitchen, pulling things from the freezer. The clatter of glass containers on the countertop wake me from whatever dream I was having. Groggy, I peek out of the comforter, glaring in his direction.

“Hey,” I shout, clearing my throat as it’s dry from all the deep throating I did last night.

Wes pops his head up, complete ‘deer in headlights’, eyes locked on mine.

“I was sleeping,” I say, glaring at him with my most playful, menacing look.

Wes, startled by my abrupt awakening, apologizes, his eyes filled with remorse. “I’m sorry, baby,” he says, his voice softening. “I just wanted to make us breakfast.”

I sigh, feeling the appreciation for his thoughtfulness. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sit up and give him a half-hearted smile. “It’s alright,” I mumble, my voice still groggy.

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