A couple of years ago, I was looking forward to the most wonderful summer. At the start of it, my first novel was due out; two months later, my second; and two months after that, my third. A whole trilogy in one year! I was over the moon. One small thing—I also faced an operation. Nothing major but still scary, and guess what? My first ever launch date was the very same day as my op.

Stuff happens.

But the coincidence preyed on my mind. Weird or what? I have to admit it skewed things. Everybody close to me knew about the op, but I kept my launch date quiet, a secret treat for a tricky day.

Luckily all went well, but it set me thinking. Suppose I’d faced something really bad? And it came at around the same time as a life-changing upheaval of some kind, like a break-up or a death in the family?

And supposing I’d once been famous—a musician, maybe, or a sportswoman, and for some reason I faced another, more personal loss at the same time, that I was too ashamed to admit to anybody because of seeming vain—the loss of all that was left of my skills or my talent?

How big a treat would I need then?

If I had a little cash put by, maybe I’d splash out on some serious pampering—a luxury spa with extras. And if a gorgeous hunk on the staff happened to flirt with me, then hang it, for once I’d flirt right back. I’d take everything on offer, no holds barred. I’d be paying, right?

And my hero? Would he be the usual dark, brooding romantic type, twitching with issues and playing hard to catch? Let’s say he’s blond for a change, a calm professional, paid to please, deft and discreet as a skilled waiter or footman. I’m not dumb. I know he’s paid to be nice to me. But hey, I’m doing the paying, so he better be pretty damn good at it. When I splash my cash I make every penny count.  So what he’s a sex object? We all know the score, and for once I’ll let rip and enjoy myself, even if deep down I know that the way I’m treating him makes me and my situation all the more pathetic…

So here comes “The Masseur”, a gentleman and a professional, good at what he does and worth every cent, and my heroine’s extra special treat before she faces something hard in her life. In my story, precisely what she faces is left unsaid—we don’t need to know the detail. We only need to see its effect on her to taste the full sweetness of her final discovery.

I do hope you enjoy it!

From “THE MASSEUR” by Flora Dain appearing in Sex Objects…

Gunder Olsen was tall and blond—well built, well honed and good-looking. When he was around the sun seemed to shine, the ship seemed to steady. He had fair Viking hair that gleamed gold in the sun and blue Viking eyes that darkened to charcoal when he got excited—which wasn’t too often, being on the cool side of Nordic. But when he touched you…

He drew the women like flies. Lily suspected he brought Landales a lot of customers. As a newcomer here she was more than willing to take everything on offer, including all the hidden extras. And if massage came in the form of Viking divinity, so much the better.

“You can turn over now.”

She lingered on his arm as he half lifted, half shifted her onto her back and stood looking down at her, solemn and perfect.

“You’re still very tense. You have a beautiful body.”

Whoa. Did masseurs say that? Her eyes widened. He was smiling as he watched for her response.

“It’s true. You work out?”

“Never.” She wanted to giggle.

“I could put you on a program. Just to tone the muscles here and here.”

She moaned as he touched her lower abdomen, running his fingers over her soft skin, making her tingle. He was watching her intently now, Thor brewing the storm.

His voice deepened. “You permit?”

She nodded and held her breath as his hand moved lower, scooping away her modest towel and searching deep into her groin.

“This arouses you?”

“You think?”

He knew it did. They’d performed this ritual every day since she’d got here. First her arms and hands, then her legs, back and breasts, and now her pussy. It was like he knew how much she wanted it, how much she needed his magic touch to grant her release.

To start with she’d been embarrassed. He’d leaned over her and explained in his rich dark voice and his light foreign accent that she needed to relax and he could smell her, he knew she was aroused. It was nothing to be ashamed of and in his professional opinion she needed relief badly.

She still blushed at the memory.

Now he paused, his fingers already inside her, his eyes dark as graphite. She felt a trickle of juice down the inside of one thigh.

“Is this okay?”

Should she let him do this? Was it allowed? Did it cost extra? She held his gaze, his eyes dark as night now. Was he aroused too?

“It’s wonderful. But—” She broke off, a little pink. She’d thought about this.

His lips flexed like she’d said something funny. “But—what?”

“Only if you want to.”

He grinned. “Know what? That’s the best offer I’ve had all day. Lie still, Lily. Part your legs for me.”

She closed her eyes. She was close already and getting closer, her climax building under his expert touch. She was about to burst into bloom like a cactus in the desert…. With a sob she arched under his hand and gave herself up to his fingers and their glorious gift of release…. “Yes.” She shrieked out loud at the intensity of it and lay entranced, buffeted by its aftershocks, letting rapture lap over her in waves of heat that ebbed away leaving her glowing and content.

She opened her eyes and felt a tear trickle into her hair. “Forgive me, I’m so sorry. It’s just—it’s been so long….”

“Hey. Don’t apologize.” In seconds he’d hoisted her upright and put his arm round her. He folded his other hand around her breast and squeezed gently. It was startling, hot and yet somehow comforting. He laid his cheek against hers and she caught a whiff of his cologne, citrus mingled with something darker, feral.

“I know. I can tell. Don’t cry. If it feels good we do it, okay? If it makes you relax we do it. Whatever it takes. That’s why you’re here.”

She nestled against him, relishing his embrace. Their hour was almost over. Soon another woman would be lying here, moaning for more under his magic touch…. Lily suppressed the thought. Who was she to argue when a Viking god ordered her to come? Why spit in the wind?

* * * * *

Curious for more? Then do read the rest of my story in Sex Objects: Erotic Romance for Women, Delilah’s brilliant new story collection for Cleis Press.

If you enjoyed this, you might like to try some of my other books.

The Wolfe Trilogy is an intriguing mix of thriller, ménage and light BDSM. A  teacher-cum-poet forms an intense but tricky relationship with a wealthy, handcuff-fixated CEO whose business is being challenged by her ex.

Suiting Saffina is a trilogy set in Regency times. A willful heiress meets her match when her rakish guardian returns from abroad to take her in hand and find her a suitor. His tastes and his methods are strict and unusual, but her choice of lovers defies all his plans.

Kinky Week, my latest novel, is a light BDSM ménage comedy. A ditzy young sub, eager to please her strict older partner, risks harming his distinguished legal career.

* Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Flora-Dain-720798664632939
* Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6950358.Flora_Dain
* Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Flora-Dain/e/B01N9AB0HY
* Twitter: @Flora Dain
Email: floradain@aol.com

UPDATE: The winners are Jen B, DebraG, and Shirley Long!

* * * * *

Happy Saturday! I hope you’re not working today, or that you’ve got a huge list of errands to run. As for me, I’ll have my BITHOK (Butt in Chair, Hands on Keys), trying to get closer to The End of my current project. So, not much time to chat, y’all! But I would like to know if you’ve read one of my short stories before, and if so, which one was your favorite?

Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of these stories! I’ll choose
three winners!

And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!

Tailgating at the Cedar Inn

Two construction workers come to the aid of one woman looking for a last taste of freedom…

Breathing became something I had to think about doing. I swept my upper lip with my tongue, opening my mouth to say something, but he bent toward me. Slowly. His narrowed eyes daring me to draw away.

I didn’t. The beer was plucked from my lifeless fingers, and I gripped the edge of the tailgate, wrapping them around it to brace myself for a kiss.

His mouth was tentative, teasing, sliding over mine and rubbing in a circular movement that pulled me with it, until I was moving with him, following to make sure I didn’t lose the seductive heat.

When he drew back, he smiled. “You know, sweetheart, you don’t have to be alone tonight.”

I blinked and glanced to the side at Owen.

“Package deal,” Chris said, drawing my attention back.

Package deal. Two packages. Mine to enjoy.

I opened my mouth and drew a quick breath, suddenly nervous. “I don’t…” I cleared my throat. “I’ve never…”

“We have,” he said quickly, cupping my chin and sliding a thumb over my still moist lower lip. “Nothin’ to be worried about. Cedar Inn’s quiet. Clean. You’ve got the single room, right? Come to ours, and we’ll shove the mattresses together. Plenty of room.”

Moisture seeped to soak the crotch of my shorts. My clit throbbed and hardened. I could end it now and go back to my bed, slide my fingers over the knot and come in an instant, but their scent and heat surrounded me. I imagined being sandwiched between them both—slick, hot skin sliding against mine, front and back. I squeezed my thighs because they were beginning to quiver. Suddenly, I had options. One safe. One not so much—but wickedly enticing.

“No pressure,” Owen said, dropping a slow kiss on the corner of my shoulder. “You call the shots. Whatever you want.”

What I wanted was for them to make a move. Make up my mind for me, because I didn’t think I was capable of speaking.

Chris laid his palms on the tops of my bare thighs and slid his thumbs between them, then slowly opened me, stepping closer, forcing me wider again until his crotch was flush with mine.

His erection was impossible to ignore. A thick, insistent bulge. “Maybe you don’t want a bed?” he murmured. “Maybe you want it here?”

His crudeness excited me. Challenged me in a way I’d never have accepted in my former life. I tossed my head. “But someone will see.”

“Maybe. Might only be Bobby, but he won’t mind. Will you?”

Owen slipped a hand behind me and rucked up my shirt until the fabric bunched under my arms. My belly bare, the warm night air blew across my skin, feeling like a caress. My stomach tightened.

I glanced between them, noted the tension riding both their jaws. They wouldn’t make a move without my consent, but they’d pounce the second I did. I let the moment stretch.

Then I leaned forward and raised my arms, keeping my gaze locked with Chris’s as Owen pulled the garment all the way off.

Both men breathed deeply as they stared at my breasts. Chris cupped one, hefted it in his palm then squeezed. Owen wet a finger and circled the other nipple, pausing to scratch a nail across the tip. It hardened.

“You’re pretty,” Chris muttered.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re happy about that.”

“Don’t pay any mind to what he says,” Owen said. “He’s hard. He doesn’t think straight when he gets that way. Take it as a compliment.”

Chris plucked my nipple and released it, watching it bounce back. His gaze darted to mine again, and then he slipped his fingers inside the waist of my shorts and rubbed the top of my mound. “Can I take these off, too?”

I didn’t mind his blunt tone this time. The air between us felt charged with a current that pricked my nipples and caused my pussy to contract.

I was already shirtless, already committed. So hot I was panting. I nodded, then gasped when Owen eased me back at an angle and Chris went to work unsnapping my shorts and dragging them off my legs.

Then Owen pushed me forward and slid behind me, urging me to rest against his naked chest. Chris opened his jeans and pushed them off his hips, freeing his cock. He leaned over me, pressing me harder against Owen who chuckled as Chris hooked his elbows beneath my thighs and lifted my bottom.

“A condom?” I gasped, one last shred of sanity remaining before my mind completely filled with the sight of him. He was thick, long, a straight cudgel of a cock. Twice the girth of the last man I’d had.

“Pocket,” he ground out.

I reached for the scrunched-up top of his jeans and pulled out his wallet. My hands shook, but I found the trifold of foil packets and tore one off. He watched as I clumsily cloaked him in the latex sheath. Then he was there, pushing inside me.

The moment he entered me, my mind clicked. Fuck, I was really doing this. Really taking on a stranger while his friend held me, his hands cupping my breasts and his cock grinding against my backside through his jeans.

And I wanted him nude as well. Wanted them both rutting, both sinking deep.

I wriggled inside Owen’s embrace.

Chris shook his head, his nostrils flared. “Want me to stop?” he bit out.

“Fuck no. But what about Owen?”

Owen laughed. The sound edgy, taut.

Chris urged my legs around his back and stood, lifting me from the truck bed. Behind me, I heard the rustle of clothing, the snap of latex. I didn’t look back and instead nuzzled into Chris’s shoulder to hide my face. I should be ashamed. But instead, I was grinning, and then nipping his skin, causing him to groan and thrust.

I didn’t know how they would manage it, but trusted that they knew a way.

“Ready.”

Chris nodded, then turned and sat on the tailgate, leaning back and bringing me with him. Behind me, hands cupped my ass, pulled my cheeks apart. I moaned in protest, and Owen’s thumbs slipped farther down, tucking into my pussy, sliding along Chris’s dick, then stretching upward to make a space.

“No way,” I muttered.

“There’s room. I promise,” Owen said a trace of humor in his strained voice. Then he was pushing inside me, forcing his way atop Chris’s thick cock.

I’m late posting today, but I was waiting for Amazon to release my latest book—Stepbrothers Stepping Out: Ultimate Collection!

I decided that since I had so many smutty stepbrother stories written, I should make it easy (and cheaper) for readers to collect them all in one place, so the first nine stories make up this 60,000 word book! Everything except the last two SEAL stories is here, which I’m delivering at a price of $3.99—a nearly $5.00 savings if you were to purchase them all individually. And, I plan to put this volume into print, hopefully by the end of the month, for those of you who still love to hold paper books in your hands. So, be looking for that news. This volume will be exclusive to Amazon for three months to allow any Kindle Unlimited readers to take advantage, but then it’s going wide to Kobo, B&N—all the usual places!

I hope you take advantage of this offer, because I may not leave it out there long…

Stepbrothers Stepping Out: Ultimate Collection

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Delilah Devlin, comes a collection of her most delicious stories—taboo tales of stepbrotherly love, served with a sexy side of ménage! Two taboo themes sure to provide you nighttime reading pleasure!

Find out what happens when a Dominant brings his submissive stepsister for an intimate exam in “With His Doctor.” In “With His SEAL Team,” a phone sex operator knows just how to bring her sexy SEAL stepbrother back from the edge of darkness. When a secretive couple faces the dissolution of their parents’ marriage, they share one last weekend in the family’s lake house in “With His Friends.” A social media celebutante worries she won’t reconnect with her rock star stepbrother in “With His Rock Band.” And more steplover adventures await your pleasure inside the Ultimate Collection!

Get your copy here!

With His SEAL Team An Amazon #1 bestselling short story! When Sara’s stepbrother surprises her with an early return from a mission, he brings two of his Navy SEAL teammates along… Purchase at Amazon! ~~~~~~~

With His SEAL Team, Part 2 Sharing my life with three virile Navy SEALs would be exhausting for most girls. But I’m not most girls. They’re high-drive, high T guys, competitive as hell, and I’m the one who reaps the rewards when they’re ready to blow off a little steam. I’m Sara. I belong to Hunter. Our relationship is a little complicated… Purchase at Amazon! ~~~~~~~

Contest

For a chance to win a $10 Amazon Gift Card, answer me this…

What sort of adventure would you like Sara, Hunter, and the gang have next? Would you like to see them treat her to a night at a BDSM dungeon? Take her on sexy vacation? Have her meet the moms? 🙂 You tell me!

Today, I saw four, FOUR messages from Facebook buddies wondering if anyone cared about them. This stuns me because I can guarantee you, if you’re my reader, I care about you. And I believe many writers feel this way.

One of the many wonderful things about Romanceland, about the reading community, is writers and readers have a relationship. Writing is communication. Communication requires more than one person. Both people are important, are valued.

If you’re a reader, you have a connection with your favorite writers. A specific writer’s story speaks to you because you share some of the same soul. You understand the writer, perhaps better than anyone else, and she/he understands you.

If you’re a writer, you have a similar connection with your readers. You might not know everything about that reader. You might not know her or his name. But she/he ‘gets’ you. She/he realizes where you’re coming from. Since many of us are rather unusual (I’m certainly not normal – grins), that’s a very special thing.

Yes, I write for myself. But I only publish stories I think readers might like. Often I’m thinking of specific readers, readers who have contacted me in some way. I think to myself, ‘Jill or Elizabeth or Janet might like this story. I’ll publish this one.’ I usually don’t tell them I’m publishing the story for them because that puts quite a bit of pressure on these readers to like it but I AM thinking this.

I know, from the conversations I’ve been having with many of my writing buddies, that I’m not alone in this. They’re thinking of their readers also. This time of year, especially, we, writers, brainstorm, thinking of ideas to show our readers how important they are to us, to thank them.

Some writers host contests (this is why so many writers have contests in December). Some writers share bonus scenes in their newsletters. Some writers send holiday cards. I write and publish a short story set in my most popular series of that year.

This year, the story is Jumping Barrel, a FREE cyborg short story (if this story isn’t free at your favorite bookseller, please contact me). It is sweeter and shorter than the regular stories in the series because December is often busy for readers. This story isn’t a marketing ploy. I already have the first story in the series (Releasing Rage) available for free. It is a thank you, pure and simple, because I love and appreciate my readers.

You’re part of the reading community. You’re not alone. And yes, people care about you. Never doubt that.

Jumping Barrel

He requires an Expert. She needs a hero.

Barrel requires an Expert for the Tau Cetian orphans. He’s looking for a female who is willing to commit to a lifespan-long role, who is comfortable with moving off planet, and who, preferably, has the ability to speak the offsprings’ first language.

Nola wants the role Barrel is offering so badly she bends a few truths. Yes, she was born off planet but she has lived almost all of her lifespan in sheltered Academies. Yes, she has learned Tau Cetian but she has never spoken with a local. Yes, she plans to follow the rules but his deep, sexy voice tempts her to rebel.

When a fact-morphing human academic meets her battle-worn cyborg warrior, deceptions are revealed, passions flare, and circuits sizzle. Wrong seems right. Lies turn into truth. The candidate least qualified for the role becomes the one candidate Barrel can’t let go.

Jumping Barrel is a short companion story in the Cyborg Sizzle series and is meant to be read after Releasing Rage, Breathing Vapor and Crash And Burn.

It is also a BBW Cyborg SciFi Romance.
Read it now for FREE

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01NBB6XQ3
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01NBB6XQ3
Apple/iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/jumping-barrel/id1178813929
ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-jumpingbarrel-2177045-168.html
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/jumping-barrel-cynthia-sax/1125190786
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/jumping-barrel

About Cynthia Sax

USA Today bestselling author Cynthia Sax writes SciFi, contemporary and paranormal erotic romances. Her stories have been featured in Star Magazine, Real Time With Bill Maher, and numerous best of erotic romance top ten lists.

Sign up for her dirty-joke-filled release day newsletter and visit her on the web at www.CynthiaSax.com

Website:  CynthiaSax.com
Newsletter:   http://tasteofcyn.com/2014/05/28/newsletter/
Facebook:  facebook.com/cynthia.sax
Twitter:  @CynthiaSax
Blog:  TasteOfCyn.com

As you’re reading this, I’m still driving toward Virginia. We left yesterday. We, being my daughter and a carload of kids ranging from 12 to 3. By now (I’m writing this in advance, so I’m imaging it), we’re all deaf from constantly shouting, “Be Quiet!” Funny how that works, shouting for quiet. But we’re better prepared than that, so hopefully, that won’t be the case. We brought tons of DVDs for the kids to watch. Anyways…I hope you have a fantastic holiday week coming up. I have great guests who will keep you entertained. Are you doing anything special for the Thanksgiving holiday? And not to leave you non-USAers out, What are your plans for this weekend?!

Bad, Bad Girlfriend Coming November 29th! Jolene Ledbetter is a big, beautiful woman with an even bigger heart. But she’s figured out that she’s become her studly, police officer boyfriend’s favorite doormat. Having put off the conversation she knows has to happen after his partner was shot, she’s ready now to tell him to “pee or get off the pot”–after a bout of really great sex. Gabriel Devine has seen what his profession does to marriages. He’s not willing to risk that kind of heartbreak—not for himself or a wife who might have to face the possibility of getting that dreadful visit from the police chief. Besides, he likes what he has with Jolene. She’s pretty, funny, likes to cook the occasional meal, is ready at the drop of a hat for a little hot loving—but she’s sensible and knows he can’t give her anything more than that. So when Jolie tells him she won’t see him any more if he’s not willing to marry her, he’s shocked and angry. With a girlfriend’s encouragement, Jolene arranges a special show at a strip club to prove to Gabe once and for all that she’s more woman than any man can handle, and if he’s not careful she’ll walk her pretty new Louboutins right out of his life. Get your copy here! ~~~~~~~

Hard SEAL to Love Uncharted SEALs, Book 9 Coming February 7, 2017! Former SEAL, “Big Mac” McLane, is sure he earned all kinds of bad karma somewhere when his first mission with Charter Group is guarding the “Love Boat” and its activity director. Okay, so the cruise line is sponsoring a special cruise for wounded soldiers and their families—a great cause—but Big Mac doesn’t do well around families and children, and Kylie Hammond is cute, but he feels like he has two left feet whenever she’s around. But he’s going to do his job, keep it strictly business, fade into the background whenever she’s around, but it seems Kylie has other ideas… Kylie knows the big SEAL isn’t exactly gung-ho for his new assignment, but she can’t be more pleased. The big man’s the yummiest thing she’s ever seen, and coaxing blushes and glares from him becomes her favorite sport. But then things begin to go wrong aboard ship, people disappear, and then someone’s killed. The thing her charity most feared—a terrorist attack at sea—appears to be underway. Now, she has to trust Big Mac and his team to keep her wounded soldiers safe. Get your copy here!

UPDATE: Debra, Jen, Kim, Colleen are all winners!

* * * * *

Happy Saturday! I hope you’re not working today. And that you don’t have a huge list of errands to run.

As for me, I plan to rush through my To Do List, get in a quick swim, and then head to my dd’s house to watch something spooky. Probably The Witch. I want a no-stress day after a week of chasing my tail and writing like a fiend.

This week, I finished one project, which is now in review/edits, but should be released early next week: With His Rock Band. Lots of naughty, over-the-top sexiness there! And I’m nearing the end of tweaks of my next SEAL story, Before We Kiss. It releases the 20th. If you haven’t already pre-ordered it, you should!

Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of these stories! I’ll choose
three winners!

And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!

The Morning Ride

A New York commuter shares lustful daydreams with another subway passenger…

Sophie played with the curls she’d formed in her hair, hoping he’d appreciate all the care she’d taken with her appearance. She wore a demure, sleeveless cloudy blue blouse, a slim navy skirt and tights—monochromatic colors were supposed to be slimming, and she wanted to be perfect. He was picking her up at her place, their first real date after a week of morning coffees.

Everything was going great. They’d agreed to take an earlier train each morning so they could stretch their daily meetings. They talked rapidly, in blurted confessions, then sat quietly drinking their coffee. Every day when they parted, he kissed her, each kiss more passionate than the one before. This morning, he’d drawn her hips close to his, and she’d felt his erection against her belly. He hadn’t minded when she’d pressed against it; his fingers bit into her hips.

He hadn’t said where he was taking her, but she hoped he didn’t have reservations he wouldn’t want to break. She’d spent the afternoon cleaning her apartment, changing her sheets, because she wanted him to stay. It was time to find out if reality matched fantasy.

Her doorbell rang and sent her heart racing. When she swung open the door, he was dressed casually in a long-sleeved, heather-colored Henley and jeans. In his hands were bags bearing the name of her favorite Thai restaurant.

His gaze slid down her skirt and silk blouse then back up. Heat glittered in his eyes. “I should have told you not to dress up. Sorry you went to the bother.”

She shook her head and spun. “Do you like it?”

“Very much.”

“Then it was worth the effort.” She pointed to the single button at the side of her skirt. “That’s all that’s holding it up.”

His chest rose. “Sophie, I’m trying to take this slow.”

She cocked a brow as she took the bags and walked to her kitchenette. “Bringing dinner to my apartment where we can be alone, that’s slow?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I was hoping to get to second base on the sofa.”

She laughed and reached for his hand. “We’ll eat after we’ve worked up an appetite.” Then she walked backwards down the short hallway to her bedroom. A single light shone on the stand next to her bed. The covers were turned down. “I was hoping you’d get considerably farther than second base.”

Daniel gave her a look that sent a rush of fluid to her pussy. His gaze was sharp, his cheeks tightening to blades. He gathered her closer, pulling her body against his, and bent his head.

She rose on tiptoe and met his kiss, winding her arms around his neck.

He raised her skirt, grabbed handfuls of her ass, and lifted her. She wound her legs around his waist and held tightly as he walked to her bed.

He came over her, roaming his hands over her clothing, squeezing her breasts, her hips, coming up between her legs to glide over her sex.

Sophie made a sound, a tiny mew, and he leaned away. “Too many clothes?”

She nodded, reaching for his shirt to drag it up partway until he pulled it over his head. His skin was pale as a stock-broker’s should be, but nicely muscled. Hair cloaked his chest, not too thickly, just right. She combed her fingers through it then circled his small nipples.

“You said there was a button.”

She guided his hand to her side and waited as he unbuttoned her skirt then unwrapped her like a present.

He stared at her tights.

“Not very convenient,” she said grinning.

“Not a problem.” He crawled off the bed then leaned over her, sliding his fingers under the waistband of her tights and peeling them down. When he bared her pussy, his gaze snagged, but he lingered longer staring at her thighs. “I’ve imagined them so many times. They’re lovely, rounded.”

She held her breath. Yes, she was carrying too much weight, and most of it landed on her butt and thighs. But his tightening expression signaled arousal. She came up on her elbows to watch him drag the tights the rest of the way off.

His gaze darted to her face then back to her pussy. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her ankles and pulled her sideways until her legs dangled off the side of the bed. “Take off your blouse.”

She sat up, reached behind her to open the button at her neck, then pulled off her blouse. Before he could ask, she opened her bra and drew it down her arms.

His chest rose. His hands went to his belt and he unbuckled it, opened his pants, and pushed them down his legs. When he straightened, she felt a little dizzy. He was large. Just as he’d been in her dream. Thick and curving upward.

He bent over her, scooped her mouth with his, then pushed her backward, lowering to take a sprung nipple in his mouth. He suctioned, drawing until her toes curled, then backed off to tease her with flutters of his tongue.

“They’re pink. I knew they’d be pink,” he said, kissing across her chest to capture the other nipple.

She petted his thick hair, combing it and digging her nails into his scalp when he nibbled her tip.

Then he backed away again, going to his knees and spreading hers. He draped her thighs over his shoulders and kissed her inner thigh, an outer lip, before burrowing into her, his tongue licking around her entrance then plunging inside while he tweaked her clit with his fingers.

“Daniel,” she said, groaning. Reality was so much better.

When he rose again, he shifted her, urging her to the center of the bed. He cloaked himself then turned her and licked a hot trail down her spine. At her bottom, he bit each cheek. Just hard enough to make her quiver. He kissed her cunt and moved behind her, his cock prodding her, then plunging into her.

Sophie screamed, unraveling in a moment. His girth stretched her, his length plundered. Moisture flooded her channel as she bounced back to greet his strokes.

A clap landed on one side of her ass. Loud, but not really hard. It surprised her, made her freeze.

He leaned over back and whispered in her ear. “Did you like that, Sophie? Do you want another?”

Her pussy flooded with moisture, as much from the silky texture of his voice as the warmth of her ass. “Please.”