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Authors: Karyn Gerrard
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satisfaction for
either him or the woman in question. Nothing like what he shared
here with Sandra. Nothing.
He opened his eyes and glanced down, her golden
hair a curtain over his thighs. She was so engrossed in her
administering, she did not glance up. She pulled her lips out to
the tip of him, her tongue flicked the slit in the head of his
cock. She was going to unman him, he knew it. Her mouth plunged
down deep, taking all of him, down to the back of her throat, how
was she not choking? A low, husky rumble escaped his mouth, he was
breathing hard, panting. "More," he managed to croak. He didn't
want this to end, ever. Her lips, her mouth, her throat, and his
cock. Forever. He lifted his hips off the bed in a gentle thrusting
motion. It was taking all his self control not to ram it as far
down her throat as he could, as roughly as he could. He had never
experienced this before. Oh Christ, he was going to
come.
"Sandra," he rasped. “I'm close."
He didn't want to spill his seed in her mouth,
she may not like it, most women didn't, at least that was his
experience. She slid him out of her mouth, her lips teasingly
kissing his cock, her voice filled with desire, "Come in my mouth,
Jerrod. I want to taste you, swallow you." Sandra took him in her
mouth again, sucking deeply.
That did it. He exploded, pumping copious
amounts of his seed. He hadn't thought he had that much in him.
Sandra took it all, swallowed, licked him clean. He never saw
anything so glorious in his life. A small trickle of his come ran
down the side of her mouth, and her tongue darted out and caught
the thick juice. He groaned, his cock twitching to life...again.
God's blood, again?
Sandra curled into his embrace. She was still
licking her luscious lips. He may very well not survive this
night.
Chapter Five
Sandra opened her eyes. The room was
illuminated in a pale gray light between waving shadows. The moon,
clearly visible through her large bedroom window, hung low in the
late night sky. A gentle breeze swayed the treetops and cast a soft
cluster of shadows around her room. She looked at the clock radio
by her bed. It was 4:20 in the morning and she was not
alone.
For once.
In the wash of magical moonlight and shadow,
the man she just shared hours of unbridled passion with was
sleeping sounding next to her, completely, gloriously naked. He lay
on his back, one arm resting across his taut abs, his head turned
slightly toward her. She wondered for a split second if he was even
breathing. He did not make a sound, his chest hardly moved, like
some slumbering prince from a fairy tale. His hair was disheveled,
and lay spread on the pillow like a golden halo. One errant lock of
wavy hair lay across his forehead, giving him a youthful look that
was in direct contrast to the virility spread out before
her.
She rested her head on one elbow and slowly
perused every inch of his skin with her heated gaze. Most men did
not look like this, she knew that, which made this whole situation
more and more like a dream. But she knew now, it wasn't a dream.
What she found on the internet had proved it to her absolutely.
Time Travel. From the past.
He turned his head slightly away, his perfect
nose twitching. Exhaling, he fell back into his soft slumber.
Sandra felt the tears cluster at her eyes. She reached out and
touched him gently. Jerrod was real enough. The throbbing between
her legs from their wild lovemaking was real. Her heart swelling to
the point of bursting was real.
Her tears began to spill over her cheeks. She
had found the man she always dreamed of, and he could be taken away
from her. She curled herself next to him, his warmth like a wood
stove. She laid her head on his broad shoulder, he did not
stir.
Sandra closed her eyes. She was definitely in
love with him, no other word for it. She wanted him to stay, but
she wanted the decision to be his. She would not ask, or hint, or
beg. She could not ask him to make such a sacrifice. She wanted
either him or the woman in question. Nothing like what he shared
here with Sandra. Nothing.
He opened his eyes and glanced down, her golden
hair a curtain over his thighs. She was so engrossed in her
administering, she did not glance up. She pulled her lips out to
the tip of him, her tongue flicked the slit in the head of his
cock. She was going to unman him, he knew it. Her mouth plunged
down deep, taking all of him, down to the back of her throat, how
was she not choking? A low, husky rumble escaped his mouth, he was
breathing hard, panting. "More," he managed to croak. He didn't
want this to end, ever. Her lips, her mouth, her throat, and his
cock. Forever. He lifted his hips off the bed in a gentle thrusting
motion. It was taking all his self control not to ram it as far
down her throat as he could, as roughly as he could. He had never
experienced this before. Oh Christ, he was going to
come.
"Sandra," he rasped. “I'm close."
He didn't want to spill his seed in her mouth,
she may not like it, most women didn't, at least that was his
experience. She slid him out of her mouth, her lips teasingly
kissing his cock, her voice filled with desire, "Come in my mouth,
Jerrod. I want to taste you, swallow you." Sandra took him in her
mouth again, sucking deeply.
That did it. He exploded, pumping copious
amounts of his seed. He hadn't thought he had that much in him.
Sandra took it all, swallowed, licked him clean. He never saw
anything so glorious in his life. A small trickle of his come ran
down the side of her mouth, and her tongue darted out and caught
the thick juice. He groaned, his cock twitching to life...again.
God's blood, again?
Sandra curled into his embrace. She was still
licking her luscious lips. He may very well not survive this
night.
Chapter Five
Sandra opened her eyes. The room was
illuminated in a pale gray light between waving shadows. The moon,
clearly visible through her large bedroom window, hung low in the
late night sky. A gentle breeze swayed the treetops and cast a soft
cluster of shadows around her room. She looked at the clock radio
by her bed. It was 4:20 in the morning and she was not
alone.
For once.
In the wash of magical moonlight and shadow,
the man she just shared hours of unbridled passion with was
sleeping sounding next to her, completely, gloriously naked. He lay
on his back, one arm resting across his taut abs, his head turned
slightly toward her. She wondered for a split second if he was even
breathing. He did not make a sound, his chest hardly moved, like
some slumbering prince from a fairy tale. His hair was disheveled,
and lay spread on the pillow like a golden halo. One errant lock of
wavy hair lay across his forehead, giving him a youthful look that
was in direct contrast to the virility spread out before
her.
She rested her head on one elbow and slowly
perused every inch of his skin with her heated gaze. Most men did
not look like this, she knew that, which made this whole situation
more and more like a dream. But she knew now, it wasn't a dream.
What she found on the internet had proved it to her absolutely.
Time Travel. From the past.
He turned his head slightly away, his perfect
nose twitching. Exhaling, he fell back into his soft slumber.
Sandra felt the tears cluster at her eyes. She reached out and
touched him gently. Jerrod was real enough. The throbbing between
her legs from their wild lovemaking was real. Her heart swelling to
the point of bursting was real.
Her tears began to spill over her cheeks. She
had found the man she always dreamed of, and he could be taken away
from her. She curled herself next to him, his warmth like a wood
stove. She laid her head on his broad shoulder, he did not
stir.
Sandra closed her eyes. She was definitely in
love with him, no other word for it. She wanted him to stay, but
she wanted the decision to be his. She would not ask, or hint, or
beg. She could not ask him to make such a sacrifice. She wanted
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