Page 42 of Indie

“Relax, Spuggy,” he murmured against my pussy lips, a sudden surge of deep vibrations filling me, and I squeaked.

And then another swipe. I could feel the flattening of his tongue against me, pushing as he licked, and stopping at the top, flicking the tip over my clit. I jumped, a surge of electric hitting me. He repeated. The heavy drag of his tongue, the little flick of the tip, the inside of my legs crawling with deep, resonating tingles. Then again, only after the flick, he covered my clit with his mouth, sucking gently.

“Shit!” The words slipped out, part gasp, part cry.

Indie hummed in approval, the vibration hitting me deep and I gasped again.

He licked again, finishing in the same flick, but this time he sucked harder, and my legs clamped around his head, trapping him there. Oh God. He stilled, giving me a few seconds for the moment to fade, and then his lips and mouth and tongue worked harder and faster, licking and sucking and then more pressure. The tip of his tongue pushing into me, exploring inside me, flicking and moving and thrusting in and out. My fingers buried into thick tufts of grey hair, something else taking over my body. My hips moved against him, in time with his tongue, rubbing against the rhythm I was creating.

Indie hummed again, a noise of encouragement, his lips and tongue moving faster against me, pulling, plucking, nipping, sucking, flicking, licking. My hips rotated, my pussy bucking against his face, my hands gripping his hair, the pressure building inside almost boiling.

“Oh, God!” It was my voice I could hear, an alien cry. “Oh shit. Indie. Fuck.”

The words weren’t making sense. But they tumbled from my lips with every thrust of my hips.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck!”

The sensation hit me like a steam train, and I pulled Indie’s face into me, darkness pooling in front of me, a metallic taste trickling into my mouth from the teeth that had held onto my injured lip.

“Oh God!” I breathed, my thighs tensing, clamping around his head, as I rode his tongue and his face. “Shit!”

Chapter Twenty

Emmie lay back on the table, completely naked, her thighs still wrapped around me. I glanced up from the pussy I’d just been burying my face in for the last few minutes, watching as her stomach arched up towards the ceiling, the skin tightening over her tiny frame. The bottom of her ribs jutted out; the pink nipples of her little tits pointed upwards. Her chest was still heaving, her eyes still closed.

I got to my feet, my knees creaking from where I’d been kneeling between her legs. From here, I could see her better. The paleness of her skin, a slight darkening over her hips and around her belly button. Faint lines from where her skin had once been stretched. Her tits had lost a tiny bit of their fullness, but theywere beautiful and petite. Just like her delicate nipples, a blush of pink in the middle, more prominent against the pale glow of her flesh.

Her apricot hair had come loose from the messy bun on the top of her head, strands criss-crossing her face, matching the colour of the freckles that dusted her button nose. She was incredible. And she was doing nothing to relieve the bulge in my pants. I closed my eyes for a second, chasing back the thoughts of my hand wrapped around that bun, guiding her mouth to my cock. Fuck.

Then suddenly she snapped her eyes open. Big, wide blue-green orbs looking back at me, almost shocked to see me standing over the top of her, watching her. She gasped, her hand clutching at her chest as she struggled to sit upright. And then she tipped herself forward, almost into a seated foetal position, her other hand grabbing at the dressing gown that lay underneath her. Dragging the shiny material across her body, she covered herself from my view.

“What’s wrong, Emmie?” I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice.

“I…err.”

“What is it, Spuggy?” I tipped her chin up, gazing into the Mediterranean sea, unable to fathom the reason for the sudden change.

Emmie tried to drop her eyes from mine, a colour fading from her flushed cheeks.

“Tell me.” And now my voice was rough, commanding.

“I don’t want you to see my body,” she answered, straining to move her gaze from mine.

“I don’t understand, Emmie. Why?”

“I…I just don’t like it. It’s disgusting.”

“Again, Emmie. I don’t get it.”

“The stretch marks, the saggy skin. My boobs.”

“Jesus, Emmie. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your body.”

“There is Indie. I hate it. All of it.”

“Well, I don’t, darlin’. I love it all.”

“I don’t see how you can.”