Page 117 of Riding the Sugar High

Getting rid of his briefs, he climbs onto the bed, and though I expect him to stop, he advances until his knees rest between my thighs and the skin of our legs is in contact, his muscles so perfectly hard against my soft skin.

He inhales deeply and grips his cock again, so I pull my fingers out and open myself up. It’s positively sinful to know he’s staring at my pussy, all stretched out for him. “So wet, Barbie. Look at that.”

“Yes,” I whine. “For you, cowboy.”

The heat emanating from his body is drawing me closer, and I don’t think I can wait any longer to touch him, to kiss him and feel his calloused fingers on me. Before I can beg him to do something about it, he leans forward as if he lost the same battle.

Our lips meet, and breathing in the scent of nature, I distinctly feel time slow down, then stop. My arm circles his neck, and the world around us is forgotten as the kiss deepens, our tongues entwining in a synchronized dance.

With a grunt, he says my name, but it’s unintelligible as I tease him with the tip of my tongue. Our bodies press tightly together, leaving me breathless as he squeezes my breast, then pinches my nipple.

I arch against his chest, my pussy rubbing over his cock.

“Oh, you feel so good.” His eyelids are heavy as he leans forward and kisses my chest. “Look at you.” His usual unbreakable expression is gone, replaced by a rushed, eager desire that pours pleasure into my stomach. “I’m going to suck those pretty tits better than you do with that damn lollipop.”

My fingers dig into his shoulder. All I can think of saying isyes, please, but I figure it’s redundant. Except he doesn’t move. “Logan?”

“Hm?”

“Did you freeze?”

He shakes his head, his eyes running down to my pussy. “I could stare at you forever.”

I breathe out shakily.

“What now, Barbie? What do you need from me?”

“Uh...” I clench my legs at the numerous filthy thoughts crossing my mind. I’m too nervous to voice half of them, so I mumble the only thing I can. “Number, uh, twenty-four.”

“Ah, of course.” One corner of his lips lifts. “Go downtown.”

Anticipation swirls in my stomach, a heady mix of excitement and nerves.

“Switch with me.”

“Switch with you?”

“On top. Come,” he says as he tugs at my arm.

He guides me on top of him until I’m hovering over his erection, and with my hands on his chest, I impatiently wait for what comes next.

“Sit on my face,” he says as he tugs at my waist.

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” He pulls me some more, and my hands land on either side of his face, my boobs bouncing over his mouth.

“How...I don’t know how to do that.”

“It’s easy, Barbie,” he says as he pulls himself up on one elbow and peppers my stomach with kisses. “You press your pretty cunt on my mouth”—his tongue tails along my hip—“and when my beard is drenched, you know you’ve done it well.”

I shake my head, wordlessly expressing my confusion, and with a third pull, he hauls me to his chest until my hands grasp the headboard.

“Okay, okay,” I rush to say in a breathy voice. I have a feeling if I don’t comply, the next tug will drag me over his mouth, so I might as well do it on my terms.

“But—” My protest dies in my throat when he leans to the side and licks the soft skin of my inner thigh. Shivers break over my skin.

Fine. I’ll admit it feels good.