Page 45 of Café Diablo

I thrust my tongue into her mouth and grab her hips, swinging her in the suspension of the hammock. She rocks feverishly on my cock, crying out with each hot stroke. She’s strung up in the hammock while my feet are on the ground, allowing me to use the hammock to swing her forward and back on my cock.

“Have you ever fucked anyone in your hammock before?” I growl, as she starts to fall apart in my arms.

“God no!” she bellows. “But holy shit, if I had any idea—!”

Then her body clenches, her pussy tightening viciously around my cock, and she cries out with a wickedness that echoes deep into the jungle. Her mouth gasps, her head thrown back and her mouth gaping open.

She strains for breath as I watch this heat-slicked woman move through the different waves of her orgasm. She comes—raw and uninhibited—pumping against my cock, blooming like a flower that’s defiantly surrendering.

It’s so unrestrained and sexy, and I thrust into her harder and harder, her ass slapping against my thighs.

“Don’t stop fucking me, Edwin,” she cries out, her orgasm still charging as her hands cling to my neck desperately. Her fingers dig into my wet hair and my skin slicks from our exertion. She hangs on tight, like she’s going to hold on as long as she can, her pussy stroking and sucking and begging me to follow.

She adjusts her hips and suddenly her eyes glaze as my cock slides even deeper.

“I knew getting you to let loose would be hot,” she pants. “But I didn’t realize you could fuck like a god! Jesus, Edwin, I can’t even fathom what you would be like if you were pissed off and we were angry fu—Oh! Oh God!”

Her body jackknifes and spasms as if thinking of me anger-fucking her sends her over the edge, the final blistering wave of ecstasy convulsing through her loins. I continue to pump, matching her shaking, pushing her to shattering throes of pleasure and ecstasy.

Slowing, she comes down off the other side of her climax and submits fully, gasping at each crest that pulses through her, before softening into the hammock like a storm-ravaged waif.

I’m still hard as iron, but I slow to give her room to breathe, and she opens her eyes to look at me, the mist of satisfaction in her gaze disarming.

“I think you need to write that on your business card,” she says in a raspy voice, reaching up and pulling me down over her drenched body. “Lawyer and Orgasm King.”

Her mouth takes me in a sloppy kiss that’s still gasping, moaning as my weight rings the air out of her lungs.

“You really think that’s something I should advertise?” I ask, pumping my hips softly to point out that would mean sharing the cock that’s currently still got her whimpering.

“Hmmmm?” she muses against my lips, taking my point. “Do I selfishly keep this wicked talent of yours from the world?” Olivia drops her hands to my waist and hungrily pushes my pants down, grabbing my bare ass. “Make me come again, Edwin, and I’ll tell you how I feel about sharing you after.”

Her tits and neck are covered in sweat, and our arms and bodies are tacky and slick in the moonlight.

“I dare you!” she challenges against my lips, clutching my ass harder and pushing me deep. “I know how much you like to win,” she taunts. “Make me come again and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything I want, huh?” I ask, pumping harder and she arches her back, scraping her tits against my chest. “You realize I’m very good at negotiating and you’re not putting up much of a fight.”

“You want me to put up a fight,” she echoes, her cunt already sucking on my cock again with such heat it won’t take much effort to send her over the edge again. I lean down and take her breast in my mouth, biting hard on her nipple and making her howl.

“You’ll give me anything if I make you come on my cock again? That’s your deal?” I ask, clarifying the terms, and she nods feverishly, her face and lips hot with lust. I undulate my hips in a mesmerizing swirl. “You have to accept the terms of our agreement verbally before I can—”

I pump my pelvis and stroke her fully with the entire length of my cock.

“Yes! Yes anything!” she begs, and my hands cover her sweat-slicked breasts, palming them and making her arch.

“Then, Olivia Reese,” I say hotly, pressing my entire cock and weight and impeccable attention to detail into her gorgeous body. “I accept the terms of your dare with pleasure! And if I break your hammock, you can bill me later.”

“Oh God,” she growls in my ear. “You promise?”

18

Olivia

“You can come in and stay the night,” I say to Edwin, as he zips up his pants and fetches his discarded shirt from my porch.

“I thought ninety-eight percent of that house was an art studio,” he teases, threading his arms through his white button up shirt that looks blue in the darkness. It’s so late even the solar lanterns that line the stone path are little more than a soft dim. “I pretty much assumed yousleepin that hammock.”

Still naked, I roll onto my stomach, stretching out in the sling of fabric and folding my arms over the hammock’s edge. Yes, we did manage to keep the hammock intact, thanks to the camping-gear Gods who actually designed industrial strength hammocks for crazy adventurers who suspend themselves over ravines and canyons. If I had money, I’d invest stock in whichever brand decides to take my advice that there’s a whole new way to market these bad-boys—if you know what I’m saying.

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