Remember now, Ollie,” Jamie said. “Just tongue, lips, teeth. No fingers. No penetration. That’s for me. Not for you.”

“Got it,” Oliver said. He sounded as breathless as I felt.

He looked me over slowly at first. My cheeks burned with embarrassment tinted with need. What did he think of me? Of this? Of us? But then I saw the hump in his khakis and realised he had an erection. A quite sizable one if I wasn’t mistaken. I forgot all that when he bent forward, almost as if in prayer, and kissed my inner thighs. First one, then the other. He dragged his soft bee-stung lips up to the very top of my thigh where the skin was the most sensitive. He kissed a maddeningly soft line across my mound and then down the other side. When my hips lifted up to meet his mouth, to tempt him, he finally gave us both what we clearly wanted. His mouth clamped down on me, his lips soft and hot. His tongue parted me, slickening my already juicy pussy with his saliva. His tongue painted insistent swirls on my clitoris until I was gripping the arms of the chair and moving my body up to meet him.

Jamie sat and watched. His cock was hard, that much I could tell. His eyes were shiny, mouth set in a fine amused line. He was enjoying this almost as much as me, I realised with what bordered on shock.

It had never occurred to me that this fantasy of mine did anything for him. But clearly it did.

“Make her come,” he whispered.

Oliver sealed his mouth to me, using the rigid tip of his tongue to nudge my clit over and over and over until I was panting for breath. Then he stopped. His mouth hovered near my pussy, but he’d pulled back. He didn’t touch me. My head pounded with blood, and I shifted restlessly. I wanted to come. I needed to come. Desperately.

Oliver glanced up at me with his pretty, gem-coloured eyes and gave me a crooked grin. Then he blew warm breath across my damp sex. Before I could register this new tactic, his mouth was back on me, his tongue back at me. Working me.

I came with a rough cry and an eager thrust of my hips. Thrusting up with such a force I felt the bite of his upper teeth against the smooth skin of my mound.

I sank back and sighed. Then I began to laugh.

“Good?” Jamie asked. I could tell he was asking both of us.

“Good,” I echoed, trying to catch my breath.

“One more?” Oliver said.

Before I could answer, Jamie nodded once and said, “Yeah, but after that first one she’s really sensitive. So you’ll have to hold her legs.”

Remember now, Ollie,” Jamie said. “Just tongue, lips, teeth. No fingers. No penetration. That’s for me. Not for you.”

“Got it,” Oliver said. He sounded as breathless as I felt.

He looked me over slowly at first. My cheeks burned with embarrassment tinted with need. What did he think of me? Of this? Of us? But then I saw the hump in his khakis and realised he had an erection. A quite sizable one if I wasn’t mistaken. I forgot all that when he bent forward, almost as if in prayer, and kissed my inner thighs. First one, then the other. He dragged his soft bee-stung lips up to the very top of my thigh where the skin was the most sensitive. He kissed a maddeningly soft line across my mound and then down the other side. When my hips lifted up to meet his mouth, to tempt him, he finally gave us both what we clearly wanted. His mouth clamped down on me, his lips soft and hot. His tongue parted me, slickening my already juicy pussy with his saliva. His tongue painted insistent swirls on my clitoris until I was gripping the arms of the chair and moving my body up to meet him.

Jamie sat and watched. His cock was hard, that much I could tell. His eyes were shiny, mouth set in a fine amused line. He was enjoying this almost as much as me, I realised with what bordered on shock.

It had never occurred to me that this fantasy of mine did anything for him. But clearly it did.

“Make her come,” he whispered.

Oliver sealed his mouth to me, using the rigid tip of his tongue to nudge my clit over and over and over until I was panting for breath. Then he stopped. His mouth hovered near my pussy, but he’d pulled back. He didn’t touch me. My head pounded with blood, and I shifted restlessly. I wanted to come. I needed to come. Desperately.

Oliver glanced up at me with his pretty, gem-coloured eyes and gave me a crooked grin. Then he blew warm breath across my damp sex. Before I could register this new tactic, his mouth was back on me, his tongue back at me. Working me.

I came with a rough cry and an eager thrust of my hips. Thrusting up with such a force I felt the bite of his upper teeth against the smooth skin of my mound.

I sank back and sighed. Then I began to laugh.

“Good?” Jamie asked. I could tell he was asking both of us.

“Good,” I echoed, trying to catch my breath.

“One more?” Oliver said.

Before I could answer, Jamie nodded once and said, “Yeah, but after that first one she’s really sensitive. So you’ll have to hold her legs.”

I wriggled in the seat, feeling how plump and ready I was. How slick and willing. In my mind, I let Oliver shove those long, thick fingers into me. I let him play me like his own personal instrument. I let him fuck me with thick digits while eating my pussy as if his life depended on it.

“And there it is…” Jamie chuckled as I came for the second time, my voice a rough ghost of its former self. I clutched at Oliver’s lush, dark hair as if I were sinking.

Oliver kissed the inside of my right thigh, then my left. He sat back on his heels and saluted Jamie. “Thanks, J. Mrs. J,” he said, giving me a friendly nod.

I was too stunned and flushed and pleasure-drunk to do much more than nod and say, “Nice to meet you.” As if that were in any way appropriate given the circumstances.

When he stood I noted the impressive hard line in his pants. I fought the urge to reach out and touch it just to feel the evidence of my appeal under my fingertips. Just for a fleeting moment. I wondered what he’d do with that cock. If he’d jerk off in the elevator or maybe his car. Or go home and fuck a wife or girlfriend with it.

Jamie caught me looking, and cocked an eyebrow. Before either of us could speak, Oliver was out the door.

Jamie held out his hand to me. “Come,” he said.

“Twice,” I teased. But I stood on wobbly legs and moved toward him where he sat.

Before he could say anything else, I dropped to my knees and worked his zipper with shivery fingers. I had his cock out and in my mouth before he could say anything. I was celebrating the fulfillment of my fantasy with one of my favorite things. Sucking his cock.

His fingers played through my short hair and then he tucked it behind my ears so he could watch me. He stroked the sides of my face gently as I drove my lips down to the very root of him. My eyes drifted shut from the sensation of his fingers on my skin.

I can’t wait anymore, baby,” he said.

When I refused to stop, he tugged a hank of my hair just hard enough to get my attention and send a fresh rush of wetness to my pussy.

I moved up where he wanted me, his spit-slick cock standing straight up. He held it for me and I straddled him, sank down on him slowly. Moving as gracefully as I could for a woman shaking so hard.

“That was the hottest fucking thing,” he laughed.

“No, this is the hottest fucking thing,” I said, moving like I had all the time in the world. I knew what I was doing to him. I felt how hard he was, how fast his heart was beating in his chest. I kept my hand over it as I moved my body languidly. He groaned.

Blair—”

“I was just kissed down there by lips that have never ever touched me before.”

Jamie groaned again.

“His tongue was on my clit,” I whispered. “Inside me at times.”

Jamie thrust up under me once, hard, but I forced myself to continue a slow, lazy rhythm.

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Just tongue, lips, teeth. No fingers.

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