“Mmmm!” was all she could vocalize when his tongue parted her pussy lips, lapping gently through her wetness. Her hips rocked, giving him better access, a new direction. His tongue found her clit and she gasped, grasping his cock and squeezing it, stroking instead of sucking as he focused his energy on her hot, swollen nub.
“There,” she urged, moaning louder as his fingers parted her flesh, plunging inside. She was thinking about his cock, already wishing he was inside of her, but his mouth worked magic against her pussy, drawing every last bit of pleasure from her possible. “Oh my god, yes, yes, please, don’t stop!”
He made a noise in his throat, licking her faster, fingering her harder, giving her just what she wanted.
“Oh baby, make me come! I’m gonna come!” She cried out as she hit the point of no return, grinding her hips, mashing her pussy against his face. He grabbed her hips and drank her in, moaning and thrusting up into her fist. She’d almost forgotten about his cock, she was so lost in her own pleasure, shuddering and gasping on top of him.
“Fuck,” he murmured, kissing her wet, trembling thighs. “That was incredible.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, turning around and kissing him, sucking at his tongue, tasting herself. His hands moved down over her curves, rocking her hips, sliding the slit of her pussy up and down against the hard length of his cock. She wanted him inside of her-she had to have him.
“Fuck me,” she murmured, reaching for him, guiding him, aiming him. He let her, moaning softly as she slid down the length of his dick, burying him inside of her. “Oh.
God.” Her eyes flew wide when he was fully into her, pressed as deep as he could go.
“Okay?” His hands gripped her waist, watching her face.
“Oh yes,” she whispered, eyes closing again. “Definitely okay.”
She began to rock on him, back and forth, round and round, finding an easy rhythm, working her way upward again. It had been so long. So very long. He let her lead for a while, biting his lip, but when she got too exuberant, he grabbed her hips, slowing the pace.
“Let me,” he said finally, rolling her to her back, his cock working between her thighs, his hips thrusting. She gave herself over, curling herself around him, arms and 64
legs wrapped tight. The feel of him, so thick and hard and pounding into her like that, was more than enough to take her over the edge.
“Ohhh now,” she managed to whisper, her pussy clamping down around him, making him gasp and thrust deep, grinding her to another orgasm. Her nails raked down his back and over his shoulders, her teeth sinking into his neck, and still he didn’t stop, taking her further, deeper, harder.
“Wait,” she gasped, using both hands to push him far enough away so she could see his face. “Please…oh god…”
“I have to.” He kissed her mouth, her cheek, her chin, desperate. “Please let me…”
“Wait.” She moaned softly, reaching down and sliding him out of her. He sighed, but she turned around for him, looking back over her shoulder. “Like this.”
“Oh Christ.” Doc’s eyes moved over her ass and thighs before grabbing her hips and sliding his cock back into her. “You feel so good.”
“Yes,” she whispered, arching back for him, meeting him. “Fuck me. Oh yes, yes, fuck me hard! Harder!”
He grunted, driving in deeper, his thighs spreading hers. There was no stopping him now and she didn’t want him to. Her fingers found her clit, rubbing in fast circles as he pounded into her.
“Don’t stop,” she begged, her cheek pressed against the sheets, eyes closing, feeling the insistent pull of another climax in her lower belly. “Oh please, fuck me until I come all over your cock!”
He groaned and gave in, his swollen length throbbing as he came deep inside of her, still thrusting, grinding, giving her more. Carrie met his final onslaught, shuddering beneath him as his weight collapsed her onto the bed, her pussy spasming around his thick length.
“Holy god,” he groaned as he rolled off of her, pulling her into his arms.
“You can say that again,” she gasped, sliding a wet thigh up over his.
“Yeah, but can we do it again?” He grinned, tweaking her nipple, making her squeal.
“Give me five minutes,” she laughed.
“Ten,” he countered, closing his eyes, still smiling.
“Okay,” she conceded, letting herself drift to the rise and fall of his breath. She thought he was sleeping when he squeezed her close and whispered, “So who’s your favorite writer of all time?”
“Hemingway,” she said without hesitation.
He snorted. “Hemingway was a giant misogynist.”
“I know,” she agreed dreamily. “But he could write his ass off.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he replied, smiling and pulling the covers over them both.
* * * *
It was almost dinner time when Carrie woke and remembered Maureen.
“What is it?” Doc murmured, his eyes still closed. He’d sensed she was awake.
“I have to call the hotel and get my messages.”
“Want me to get the phone for you?” Doc asked when she gave no indication of moving out of his arms.
“No, I’ll do it.” When she finally untangled her limbs from Doc’s, she discovered her assumption had been correct-Maureen had left her a message. “Mo wants me to meet her at Captain Tony’s in…” She glanced at the digital clock on the night stand. “An hour.”
“Did she say anything else?”
Carrie shook her head.
“Well let’s go then. Besides, there’s something I want to show you.”
Doc insisted on making them something to eat-sandwiches-before they left, and she hadn’t brought any extra clothes, so she insisted they stop by her hotel so she could change. Doc flipped through the TV while she fussed in the bathroom, and he gave a low whistle when she came out wearing a white sun dress and sandals.
“Nice.” He sat up, admiring her, first with his eyes, and then with his hands, running them up the backs of her bare thighs.
“Let’s go before we end up staying…” she murmured as his hands cupped her behind.
“I wouldn’t mind…” He tilted his head up and she leaned down to kiss him, briefly, then grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door.
The bar wasn’t too crowded yet. Doc ordered them some “pirate’s punch” which proved to be fantastically good and had Carrie relaxed in minutes. They sat at the bar and talked for a while, but every time Doc touched her arm or her hip, she would remember the morning they’d spent together and her whole body felt lit up.
“So, I told you I wanted to show you something.” Doc helped her off the bar stool and led her through the bar. There was a tree-a live tree-growing up through the floor. They passed it, coming to a roped-off out-of-the-way corner. “Guess what that is?”
“A bar stool?” She stated the obvious.
“Not just any bar stool.” He grinned. “Guess who sat on that bar stool?”