Page 54 of Goode Vibrations

Hair a spray of inky black around her tanned shoulders and wisping around her lips, her back a sexy curve, a delicate sinuous line from shoulder to ass, one thigh drawn up, the other stretched out.

My stomach rumbled, and my entire being demanded coffee, so I dressed silently in my stubbies and a tank top and thongs, headed out for the Maccas I’d seen back down the other way a kilometer or two. Hit the drive-thru, got four large black coffees and four different breakfast orders of various items that sounded good to me. Brought it all back and tiptoed in, juggling the bags and the key and trying to quietly close the door.

She stirred as I set the food down on the small table near the window, rolling to her back, bringing one foot up under her other knee, arm across her face, the other splayed across the bed. Breasts draped to one side as she was tilted slightly. Unaroused, her nipples were fat flat buttons of pink. Belly button was a tiny dimple between the lush expanse of tan flesh between her breasts and sex.

Her sex was a pink rosebud, partially opened with the way her thighs were splayed, thigh bent up ninety degrees, calf and foot angled down under the opposite thigh. I brought one coffee over to her side of the bed, removed the top so it would cool. Crawled onto the bed, and she stirred, head swiveling to the other side, making a soft smacking sound with her lips.

Bracing my hands on either side of her hips, I bent over her sex. Huffed a hot breath on it. She mewled quietly, hips flexing. Oh, she was ready for it. I licked up her slit, ending with a pressing swirl over the nub of her prominent clit. She flexed her hips again, mewled more loudly, shifted, wiggled. I let her settle, and then went to pleasuring her with slow precise licks—up and down, side to side, circles; up and down, side to side, circles; again and again, and now her huffing breath and mewling voice were louder, more insistent, and her hips began to move to match my tongue, lifting and circling, flexing and swaying. I held her lips apart and shoved my tongue inside her, and she gasped, and I think that was the first moment she began to surface toward wakefulness.

“Errol…” she whimpered, soft, sleepy—not sleepy, asleep. Dreaming.

“Come for me, Poppy,” I murmured.

“Mmmm…” she breathed. “More…more.”

I gave her more. She seemed to like being fingered while I ate her out, so I gave her two fingers curling up and in, and she responded by gasping aloud, but a glance told me she was still dreaming, thinking this was a dream.

Let her dream of being pleasured, then. As long as I got to feel her come, hear her scream, taste her pleasure.

It didn’t take long. I had her bucking within a few minutes, and I felt her hands reaching for me, so I helped her find my head, my hair, and I grunted as she tangled her fingers into my hair with knotting strength, jerking me hard against her slick wet hot sex.

And then, as I fingered her the way she liked it, licked her the way she needed it, she came.

And as she came, her eyes flew open, wild and confused and desperate and bliss-fraught. “Errol?”

“Say my name, Poppy,” I growled, pausing only briefly. “Come for me, and say my name.”

“Errol! Fuck,Errol!”

She came, and I tasted her pleasure as it washed through her, and she writhed against me, held me against her and rode my mouth and screamed a deafening scream.

Finally, the orgasm left her, and she wilted.

She pulled at me, and I crawled up. Sat beside her. She clung to me, rested her head on my thigh. I reached over and carefully grabbed the hot coffee. Blew across the top, toward her.

She mewled. Shook her head. “Sleepy.”

“So sleep.”

“But…coffee.”

“And pancakes, and hash browns, and McGriddles, and sausage, egg, and biscuit sandwiches, and…something else, I’ve forgot what.”

She huffed. “Fine,” she growled, as if I’d insisted she rouse herself.

And sat up, tugged the blanket up to her waist, but otherwise stayed naked from the waist up, which I thoroughly appreciated, especially when she shifted and wiggled to get her pillows behind her just so and the blanket this way, making her tits jiggle and shimmy delightfully.

I handed her the coffee, and she took it, closed her eyes and inhaled the steam, and then took a slow, careful, slurping sip.

Handed it to me, watched me with every bit as much lustful intensity as I’d watched her.

We sharedthe coffee without talking.

Ate all the food, sharing the various options.

More coffee.

All without talking much… at all.