Read Online Curve Ball by Charlotte Stein - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Charlotte Stein
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Idol by the time he’s done, but if I do he doesn’t make a note of it.
He just keeps on kissing me in other places. Like in that sensitive spot just below my ear, and that even more sensitive spot where my throat slides into the curve of my shoulder. It’s almost unbearable to feel something so soft and wet just easing over the skin there, but obviously he knows how to make things worse.
Because then he bites that said same skin, and I think I kind of go nuts. At the very least, my two hands turn into reflexive claws. I dig my nails into places I do not mean to dig my nails into, like the meat of his upper arm, and some other innocent parts of him, and … OK, OK, maybe my other hand is somewhere around his arse. I do not know how it got there and after I’ve punctured it with my talons I’m somewhat regretful.
But what does he expect? He just bit me in a place I apparently really like to be bitten. Of course I’m going to squeeze him all over with angry, angry hands, when that happens. The fact that he seems to like it is just a bonus, really, on the end of my lustful need to explore him all over.
This is my only chance, I think, and then I squeeze that glorious arse all the harder. I actually slide my hand inside his shorts, just so I can feel how smooth his skin is – oh so very smooth – and how exciting it is to experience him all bare like this. Newsflash: it’s very exciting. It’s so exciting that I don’t even register his response, until it comes to me that he’s been very silent, for a good long while.
Maybe I crossed a line? Erections in the face are fine, as is random biting. But bare arse squeezing is right out? It’s possible, I suppose.
Though his expression doesn’t exactly read that way. It reads more like a really filthy book that’s missing pages four to 50. Suddenly, everything jumps from “oh hello, how are you?” to threeway anal – and he just wasn’t prepared, I don’t think. I’m pretty sure he thought things would be like they were last time, with me passively accepting his gracious bounty.
And now that they’re not, well …
‘Ohhhh yeah, baby, do what you want with me.’
Now that they’re not, everything is really awesome.
He lets me pull his T-shirt over his head. And it’s not like when we were in the water, and I had to be all careful in case I accidentally gave away a sexual feeling or a sense of delight at the feel of his bumpy parts. He seems to be actively encouraging my delight, in this instance. I squeeze his left pec and he makes a noise like a wounded animal, even though I don’t do it in any sort of normal, sensuous way.
I just fucking go for it, because he feels amazing.
And then, quite shockingly, he goes for me in the same manner. As though I feel amazing too. Of course, I know it can’t be true. I know I’m a massive flesh avalanche, according to him. But I can’t shake the feeling that him getting a handful of my right boob is a positive sign.
Especially when he follows it with, ‘Oh my God, your breasts are insane .’
I mean, call me crazy. But I don’t think that’s an insult. The word “insane” almost tilts things in that direction, but the throaty, groaning way he says it pulls it back. As do his absolutely frantic efforts to see more of them. He actually tears the material of my vest when it decides it doesn’t want to bend to his will, and suddenly I’m trapped with half of it around my right arm and the rest of it around my neck.
While he buries his face in my bosom.
And just when I’m wondering if he simply likes giant breasts, he does the same thing to the curve of my hip and the soft swell of my belly. He swamps himself in me until I’m afraid for his life. Any more of this and he could suffocate, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Neither do I. It feels so much more exciting than it probably sounds. I get the glancing edge of his teeth on every inch of my flesh, followed by long licks that turn me boneless. By
He just keeps on kissing me in other places. Like in that sensitive spot just below my ear, and that even more sensitive spot where my throat slides into the curve of my shoulder. It’s almost unbearable to feel something so soft and wet just easing over the skin there, but obviously he knows how to make things worse.
Because then he bites that said same skin, and I think I kind of go nuts. At the very least, my two hands turn into reflexive claws. I dig my nails into places I do not mean to dig my nails into, like the meat of his upper arm, and some other innocent parts of him, and … OK, OK, maybe my other hand is somewhere around his arse. I do not know how it got there and after I’ve punctured it with my talons I’m somewhat regretful.
But what does he expect? He just bit me in a place I apparently really like to be bitten. Of course I’m going to squeeze him all over with angry, angry hands, when that happens. The fact that he seems to like it is just a bonus, really, on the end of my lustful need to explore him all over.
This is my only chance, I think, and then I squeeze that glorious arse all the harder. I actually slide my hand inside his shorts, just so I can feel how smooth his skin is – oh so very smooth – and how exciting it is to experience him all bare like this. Newsflash: it’s very exciting. It’s so exciting that I don’t even register his response, until it comes to me that he’s been very silent, for a good long while.
Maybe I crossed a line? Erections in the face are fine, as is random biting. But bare arse squeezing is right out? It’s possible, I suppose.
Though his expression doesn’t exactly read that way. It reads more like a really filthy book that’s missing pages four to 50. Suddenly, everything jumps from “oh hello, how are you?” to threeway anal – and he just wasn’t prepared, I don’t think. I’m pretty sure he thought things would be like they were last time, with me passively accepting his gracious bounty.
And now that they’re not, well …
‘Ohhhh yeah, baby, do what you want with me.’
Now that they’re not, everything is really awesome.
He lets me pull his T-shirt over his head. And it’s not like when we were in the water, and I had to be all careful in case I accidentally gave away a sexual feeling or a sense of delight at the feel of his bumpy parts. He seems to be actively encouraging my delight, in this instance. I squeeze his left pec and he makes a noise like a wounded animal, even though I don’t do it in any sort of normal, sensuous way.
I just fucking go for it, because he feels amazing.
And then, quite shockingly, he goes for me in the same manner. As though I feel amazing too. Of course, I know it can’t be true. I know I’m a massive flesh avalanche, according to him. But I can’t shake the feeling that him getting a handful of my right boob is a positive sign.
Especially when he follows it with, ‘Oh my God, your breasts are insane .’
I mean, call me crazy. But I don’t think that’s an insult. The word “insane” almost tilts things in that direction, but the throaty, groaning way he says it pulls it back. As do his absolutely frantic efforts to see more of them. He actually tears the material of my vest when it decides it doesn’t want to bend to his will, and suddenly I’m trapped with half of it around my right arm and the rest of it around my neck.
While he buries his face in my bosom.
And just when I’m wondering if he simply likes giant breasts, he does the same thing to the curve of my hip and the soft swell of my belly. He swamps himself in me until I’m afraid for his life. Any more of this and he could suffocate, but he doesn’t seem to care.
Neither do I. It feels so much more exciting than it probably sounds. I get the glancing edge of his teeth on every inch of my flesh, followed by long licks that turn me boneless. By
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