Page 32 of Mind Pucked

I don’t say anything, pulling him in for another kiss, helping him get back into the moment with me. His hands move down my back, and he grips my ass with a powerful and firm grip that has me melting. I may not know much about hockey, but I know that the strength and stamina required to have such control on the ice and whack the hockey puck into the goal keeps him in amazing shape.

I slide my hands from his broad shoulders down to his bulging muscles, and I can feel myself getting more excited and wetter by the second.

His fingers are on my jeans, unbuttoning them and gliding the zipper down. I’m nearly trembling, never having felt such a strong need to be unwrapped for his pleasure as I feel right now.

“Let’s get down onto the couch,” he says, and I nod my head because I can’t even find my voice.

He pulls my pants down over my hips and down my thighs, and we lower ourselves until I’m sitting on the couch. He pulls away from me, and I instantly notice the lack of warmth against my body. I want to pull him back toward me, but he takes my shoes off and pulls my jeans off my legs, leaving me in only my bra and thong.

“Damn, you are so incredibly sexy,” he says, eyeing me like a sweet piece of candy he wants to taste.

He soaks me in, inching closer on his knees toward my body. He caresses my thighs, his mouth on my knee, his hands tracing thelower part of my leg as he places butterfly kisses all along my inner thigh. I open my legs wider as he gets closer and closer to my center. As his face reaches my eager pussy, he makes eye contact with me as he places his thumb on my clit through my panties.

Even with the fabric between his thumb and my skin, it’s enough of a tease that I think it might make me beg for him to pull them to the side. He uses his pointer and middle fingers, rubbing them up and down my slit until I’m tingling everywhere.

“That feels so good,” I say, the words spilling from my mouth as I allow my head to start drifting back and settling into the soft, cushiony pillow of the couch. “Please don’t stop.”

He kisses my inner thighs a bit longer, increasing my anticipation for him tenfold until he finally pulls my panties to the side. When his tongue licks my clit, my whole body lurches back.

I thought his tongue felt good twirling around with mine, but it’s even more incredible in between my other pair of lips. It doesn’t feel like he’s out of practice at all, but maybe this magnetic attraction between us is at the core of what makes everything feel so perfect.

His fingers slide inside of me as he continues to lick me down, and I find myself thinking thoughts I would ever expect to be thinking during a hot sexual encounter.

I think that he must have been an attentive husband to be so giving and mindful of a woman’s pleasure, and that Lyla was a lucky woman. I also wonder if we’re on the couch because he doesn’t want to take me to his bedroom where they shared a bed.I’m almost grateful if that is the case—I’m not sure I could feel comfortable in that room.

God forbid there’s a picture of her somewhere on the nightstand or hanging on the wall. I don’t need her judging us. I already feel bad enough pushing aside the more practical reasons I shouldn’t be involved in this family.

I can’t believe I’m so weak, giving in to the desires of my flesh and this man who has me in a chokehold.

I run my fingers through his hair as he has me squirming. I slowly direct him upward and away from my inner thighs, and I lean in to kiss him.

I can taste myself, and I feel an animalistic urge to taste him too. I want both of us to be slippery and able to feel the pleasure we’re working toward together. I pull myself closer to him while he’s still on the floor on his knees. I pull at his shirt, practically ripping it off over his head.

“Come join me,” I say, still speaking just above a whisper and patting the couch.

He lifts himself onto the couch, and there’s something about seeing him relaxed with his muscles on display. I forget about any self-consciousness I might have about being in this house.

All I want to do is straddle him. As I do, he looks surprised and almost overwhelmed, biting his lip as he crinkles his brow and scans my body. I’ve been a bit forward, and I think about climbing back off him, but then he has his strong hands on either side of my arms, squeezing like he’s trying to stop himself from devouring me completely. I lean in, kissing his lips and his cheeks as he moves his hands to my back and unclips my bra.

He slips the straps of my bra over my shoulders and down my arms, leaving me bare and vulnerable. His fingertips rake down my chest and circle my nipples. They’re so erect, and as he rubs his thumb along them goosebumps appear along my entire body.

I let my hands run along his chest and down across his six-pack abs. The thought of ripping him out of his pants consumes my mind, and before I can even move my hands to undo his belt, he’s undoing it himself.

He throws the belt to the side, and I take over unbuttoning and unzipping him. I help pull his pants down so his erection is standing tall. I lick my fingers and gently wrap my hand around his erect cock, leaning in to kiss him deeply while I start to work him over. Leaning back, I take a second to lock eyes with him, and we keep our eyes open for a moment as I stroke him up and down.

Finally, I shift my panties to the side and sit down on top of him, moving slowly to allow my body to adjust. He lets out a sigh of pure pleasure, and so do I.

“Does that feel good?” I ask breathlessly.

“You have no idea,” he says. His eyes close and I begin to rise and fall on top of him, his cock filling me.

I moan, but I’m still trying to be mindful of how loud I get. As I come all the way down on top of him and he’s deep inside, I bring my hands to my breasts and rub them, heightening the sensations radiating through me. He has his hands on my hips and my ass, helping me work him.

As I begin to move more aggressively, he lets out a few soft moans.

Then he lifts me up and lays me down on the couch, climbing on top of me and entering me again in a swift thrust.

The couch is wide, so it’s plenty big to accommodate both of our bodies. He brushes the hair from my forehead and stares at my lips as I widen my mouth in a big O, silently signaling that he feels so good I hardly know what to do with myself.

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