Page 111 of Mr. Charming

“What would you do if you were next to me right now, Tweetie?” There’s that voice again.

“I’d inch over to you and start by kissing your shoulder.”

“Sounds nice.”

“I’d slide my finger under the strap of your cami and lower it away from your collarbone as my lips continued their journey up your neck to your jaw. I’d hover over you, my lips millimeters from yours. I’d tell you how beautiful you are and how I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Am I?” she asks, a desperation in her voice.

“Yes, Tedi, you’re mine. Always have been.”

“Go on.”

“I’d place my lips to yours and slide my tongue along the seam of your lips, hoping and praying that you’d open for me.”

“I would,” she whispers.

“I’d slip my tongue in and seek yours out.”

“My tongue would meet yours, and my fingers would weave through the hair at the back of your head, those beautiful blonde strands, just to make sure you deepened the kiss. You’d groan or growl or moan.”

“I’d groan.”

“I’d slide my arm out of my cami, and you’d remove the strap on the other side.”

“My knee would nudge your legs.”

“And I’d open them, giving you room to fall between them. Your hard bulge would press to my center.”

“Then you’d get wet with the feel of my hard cock.”

“I was already wet. I was wet from you just being next to me.”

“God, I wouldn’t want to stop kissing you, but there’s more of you I have to touch, have to suck, have to lick. So my mouth would trail kisses along your flesh.”

“Goose bumps would rise along my skin, chasing your tongue,” she says.

“I’d nudge down the top of your cami until your tits popped free. I almost nut myself, but I glance up at you right as I open my mouth…”

“And suck. I arch my back, inviting you to take me.”

“I wouldn’t leave the other one out. I’d have to give it the pleasure of my mouth.”

She giggles, and I tug on my dick harder.

“My other tit thanks you.”

“By the time I’m done, your cami would be bunched around your stomach, and I’d be heading down to my second favorite part of your body.”

“What’s your first?” she asks.

“Focus on my fingers pulling back the front of those flannel boxer shorts and finding you wearing…”

“Nothing. I’m bare.”

I growl, my dick so hard I’m not going to make it much longer. “Fuck.”

“I thought you’d like that.”

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