1. Pretty Mama


    Date: 8/25/2015, Categories: Love Stories, Author: Frank_Lee, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    enough.” He didn’t know where it came from. Just something that drifted through his mind unbidden. His left hand fingered into her hair and held her head from behind. Her face burrowed into his neck, breath pulsing at his skin. His right hand drifted over the full curve of her ass. Her dress was thin and tight enough it was almost like touching her skin. She arched against him, slightly, as if a barely perceptible wave had rolled up and down the length of her body once and disappeared. Her lips touched his neck but didn’t kiss. Breath. Touching his neck through an open mouth. A wider swath. Damp heat over his skin. He moved his hand. Fingertips brushed across the hem of her dress, lifting it that scant couple of inches he needed to touch the under curve of her ass. Bare skin on the pads of his fingers. An illusion of flawlessness. His cock started growing, and another tiny wave passed through her body. He wanted to say her name but didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t want to ask her now. He didn’t imagine she knew his, either, but then, a name was about the least you could ever know of anyone. She was facing into the open doorway while he was facing out. He wanted to guide her inside, but the moment was crystalline and in precarious danger of shattering. The Fairmont was parked in front of them. Her car was where she’d pulled in before, parked in front of her door which was hanging open wide as his. The open area between the buildings was quiet. Deserted. It felt later ...
    than it was. He lifted her dress higher, exposing the springy roundness of her ass, discovering the thong nestled between her cheeks as he clamped his hand onto one sphere. “Maybe this is....” His voice trailed off into a total lack of conviction. “I’m sorry,” he started. “Don’t.” Her lips pronounced the word against his neck. At first, he thought she was telling him to stop. She probably should have, but her body was moving against his cock again. His grip tightened on her ass – soft hard pliant flesh – and he angled his head in to kiss her throat. He wanted her mouth more, but he was unsure. One person’s mouth on top of another’s – tongues dancing like lovers within lovers – was like setting foot in another country. Tension ebbed from her body as he tasted the salt skin. Her thigh slid between his, pressing upward toward the vicious confinement of his ripening cock. She swallowed against his lips, and the movement of her throat made him harder and grip her ass more tightly. He felt in touch with the coursing flow of all the blood and nerves feeding her dreams. Later, maybe he’d ask her if she had any dreams. He didn’t think so. But for now, everything depended on becoming one. He moved to taste her mouth. Cigarettes, whiskey and fruit. His hand was still clutching the back of her head, laced into the roots of her long hair. Her lips formed a wide circle against his and with the first movement of their tongues, the act of kissing gave way to a kind of devouring. She was trying ...
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