Page 70 of Café Diablo

One sock.

Two.

He tosses them toward the window near his discarded shorts and polo. Then he stands back up and hooks his thumbs under the elastic at his hips, teasing it slightly and making the root of his cock bulge against it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get back on your knees while I do this?” he says hotly, and I lick my lips, pretending to not be affected. I’m exactly where I plan to be, thank you. He shrugs and pushes his boxers down, letting his cock spring free as the fabric falls to the floor and he kicks it to the side sloppily. He’s gorgeous—thick and fully extended—making my pussy ache to grind against him.

He waits, a soft smirk on his face as I ogle his length and shape. Then I take in the image of all of him. This is the first time I’ve seen him fully naked and he takes my breath away. He’s gallant and powerful, and I could stare at him all evening.

There are things I want to paint, things I’m pulled to capture and express, and for all my snobbish distaste for realism, I can’t imagine painting him in abstraction. No, I’d want to capture his every tiny detail, from the sculpted muscles to the fine threads of his hair, his potency and arousal on full display.

“Mmmmm,” I moan in appreciation. “I may have to start painting nudes.”

His smile lights. “It seems like that’s the only way you’re going to let me into your tiny home studio.”

My mouth dries. My tiny house couldn’t handle this much Edwin.

His nakedness would consume every breath of oxygen.

“Climb back on the bed,” I instruct, nodding for him to move onto the satin behemoth.

He lifts an eyebrow. “How very traditional of you, Olivia,” he teases, his gaze a lit match between my legs, hot and flickering. Slowly he sits down and inches himself backwards onto the middle of the mattress. “With hammocks and desks and sandy beaches in your repertoire, I’m not sure if you even know what to do in a bed.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” I admonish, pointing at him to move further back. I keep flicking my wrist at him until he’s sitting against the headboard with his legs out in front of him and his cock sticking up like a delicious lollipop I still haven’t decided if I’m going to swallow yet.

I run my hands delicately along my collarbone, my skin hot and damp from the sheer beauty of the man who’s naked before me. My skin must be red and blotchy, my freckles dark, like tiny stars under the colorful city lights.

I slip my fingers behind my neck and begin unlacing the halter ties of my dress. Edwin’s breath deepens, his chest lifting and falling like a soft tide that I want to lie my body against and float away on. I undo the ribbons and slowly pull the black lily-fabric down, shifting my hips and slithering out of the dress until I’m standing before him in the silk of my bra and panties.

“Do you realize—?” I say, reaching behind me to unhook the band of my strapless bra. “We’ve never been fully naked together. One of us has always been wearing something.”

I slide the silk fabric from my breasts and bare them. He growls, making my nipples hard—the two fisted buds straining for contact, just like the hot pole of his cock. I tease my tight nubs, brushing my fingers over my weighted curves, moaning at my own fiendishness.

“Witch,” he whispers, and I bite my lip, shooting a bawdy aroused look at him. The heat of my own striptease has my core throbbing, my long black hair tickling my shoulders and tits as I hook my fingers—just like he did—into the elastic of my panties.

“Do you know how ready I am?” I ask, inching the fabric down slowly, the drenched silk dragging against the slick that’s already coated my inner thighs.

Now it’s his turn to stare as my body is fully exposed by the lit rainbow of colors from the city outside the window. My nipples are pink, my stomach gold, my thighs glistening with heat and painted silver-green. I expect him to say something naughty, but instead he looks at me like I’m a goddess who’s come down from Olympus to seduce him.

I step forward and his cock twitches, the strain in his loins visible and making my pussy soften, aching to swallow his engorged thickness. When my knees brush the bed, I bend forward and crawl onto the mattress. Edwin stares, wide eyed, as I inch toward him on all fours, my tits dangling and my ass in the air—closer and closer to where he’s seated.

“Jesus,” he hisses under his breath, taking his own cock in his hand and stroking it hotly. My pussy clenches as his thick palm covers his length, starting from his head and pushing downward through his fisted hand.

“No touching!” I scold, knowing I won’t be able to watch him stroke himself without turning completely ravenous. “Show me your hands! Lift them up!”

He tilts his head to the side and pouts, deliberately running his thumb over his velvet head.

“No touching!” I repeat, wanting to pop that mushroom cap into my mouth and lavish him properly, taste his saltiness. “Hands!” I instruct, motioning as he frowns and slowly unwraps his fingers from his cock. “Reach back and hold onto the top of the headboard, that way I know where they are!”

“You better get your mouth over here, and fast, if I’m not allowed to touch anything,” he shoots back, shaking his head before following directions.

He lifts his arms up and hooks his fingers over the lip of the iron rung of the headboard, his fingers curling around the arched post like he’s going to need something sturdy to hold onto. It stretches him in a way that’s achingly beautiful, showing off all his lean muscles and elongating his underarms and stomach. My thighs clench, my pussy salivating. I can’t imagine him looking any sexier than he does right now, sitting idle and aroused and desperate for me to crawl on top of him.

I slink forward, still on my hands and knees, moving slow and deliberate as a panther about to take its prey. I drop my lips to his kneecaps as I move up his legs, relishing the moan that escapes his throat when my tits brush against his shins.

“Damn, Olivia!” he grinds out in warning, his voice low as I inch forward, dragging my mouth up his thigh and deliberately letting my nipples caress his legs. Darts of electricity shoot through my tits, making me limber and delirious.

“You want something?” I tease, stopping with my mouth at the base of his cock. I lift slowly—my lips hovering—as I exhale over his shaft. It’s all hot breath, my tongue and lips only millimeters from his hard flesh, but not touching him yet.

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