Page 35 of Thoroughly Innocent Intent

“What’s a line of scrimmage?”

I fight hard to contain my grin. That’s not at all the question I’m expecting, and I suddenly realize this might be harder than expected. I try a different tactic. “You know what a scrimmage is?”

“A game. Or a match,” she says confidently.

“Right. Well, in this case it’s a play, and there are a series of plays that make up the game as a whole. The spot where each play starts is called the line of scrimmage.”

“The spot where each play starts? So, you stop and start a bunch of times in the same game? No wonder it takes so long to play.” She wrinkles her nose.

I can’t help it, I laugh. Not an amused little chuckle either, a full bellied, my sides hurt and there might be tears leaking out of my eyes.

“Was that a stupid question?” She winces.

“What? No, honey, it was a genuine question and a fair observation. I just never considered how the game would look to someone who wasn’t familiar with it, and you’re making me think about it in a whole new light.” I wipe the traces of tears from my eyes.

“Is that a good thing?” She pulls at her lip. I haven’t seen her do that recently, so she must really be worried about this.

“It is.” I pull her stool toward me so she’s only inches away and kiss that plump lip, because she’s so fucking adorable I just have to touch her.

What was supposed to be a soft, sweet kiss turns carnal when she leans forward and rests her palms on my thighs, gripping me as she parts her lips and moans into my mouth.

That heavenly sound shoots straight to my balls, and I slide my hands from the stool to her legs, rubbing them over the thin fabric of her skirt.

Sam’s hands clutch at my thighs as she moans into my mouth. I feel my cock starting to swell behind my zipper, and based on the way she’s rocking on that stool, the sweet ache of desire is building between her legs, too.

“Want me to make it go away?” I mumble against her lips.

“What?” She breathes.

“That ache between your legs.” I press my thumbs at the juncture where her thighs meet, just above the sweet spot where she needs my touch.

“Oh H…how?”

“With my fingers, my tongue, whatever you like.”

“I don’t…I haven’t,” she breathes into my mouth.

“I know. Will you let me show you?” I leave her mouth to kiss along her neck.

I feel her nod, so I pick her up and set her on the counter, stepping to her legs so we’re face to face. Sliding my hands underneath her skirt I inch it up her legs, the sight of my hands under her prim and proper clothes adding to my arousal.

She’s still, almost stiff, but without my instruction she shifts her hips so I can pull the skirt up to her waist and step between her spread legs.

Cradling her head in my hands I kiss her softly, deliberately slowing things down so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed. As we kiss, I stroke my hands along her legs, down her calves, over her thighs, venturing higher only after she’s relaxed to my touch.

The first time I drag my finger over the v between her thighs she gasps, holding her breath. But she doesn’t pull back. Gently I do it again, rubbing back and forth over the panties that are damp with her desire.

Slowly, tentatively at first, she begins to rock her hips into my touch. I tuck a finger inside the silk covering her and run my finger between her folds. She’s slippery, so much so that my finger glides effortlessly along her seam, over her clit. She moans sensuously when I touch it, so I concentrate on that little nub, rubbing it in gentle circles.

As I spread Sam’s arousal over her pussy the musky scent drifts up to my nose, and I’m overwhelmed with the urge to taste her. I guide her to her back and hook my fingers inside the waist of her panties, dragging them down over her knees and letting them drop to the floor.

“What are you doing?” she gasps as she props herself up on her elbows, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna to eat your pussy.” I run a soothing finger between her folds, which are covered by a small, neat thatch of hair.

“What?” She pants.

“I’m going to put my mouth on you.”

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