Key West

by Lacey Alexander

  But she had no time to entertain the idea further, since Chris quickly pulled her up from the chair and paid the painter for his work. Before even exiting the small room, however, he bent down and raked his tongue across one nipple, making her purr with pleasure as the sensation echoed all way into her cunt.

  She found herself glancing over her shoulder at the artist, making sure he was watching. As the days passed, she was beginning to understand what Amy and Cole got out of being watched—the very connection with the painter’s gaze made her pussy surge.

  “Thank you,” she said to the artist as Chris led her swiftly from the room.

  She found herself laughing as they reentered the main bar area.

  “What?” he asked with a grin.

  “You. Unlike me, with you and Shay, you’re not into sharing, are you?”

  Chris tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “So you want to be shared, huh?”

  Her pussy throbbed as she cast a soft smile. “Well, I’m only kidding. But…”

  “But?”

  She shrugged, laughed. “I guess I was just fantasizing there for a minute, and it seemed fun.”

  He issued an almost challenging glance her way, motioning to the door they’d just exited. “We can go back in there if you want.”

  Again, her cunt pulsed at the idea, and for a moment, she was actually tempted. What would it be like to add that new experience to her sexual repertoire? Even so, though, she simply said, “No thanks. The truth is, I’m ready to get you alone.”

  “Hey, look who it is.” Chris pointed to the dance floor, where Carrie immediately spotted Shay, now totally naked, writhing against a young blond guy, also totally in the buff, his cock swaying as he pumped to the beat.

  “Is that…Jake? From your snorkeling crew?”

  “None other.” He looked at Carrie. “He’s only been with us a few weeks, and I didn’t know he was into this. But looks like Shay won’t mind if we take off without her.”

  The two of them approached the couple, the guys exchanging greetings of, “Hey, dude,” as Shay said, “Sweets, your tits look fantastic.” She didn’t hesitate to reach out and curve her palm around one of them.

  “We’re taking off,” Chris said.

  Shay nodded. “Are you guys sailing tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” Carrie said. She and Chris had made plans to do just that.

  “Shit, I shouldn’t have asked,” Shay said suddenly. “You guys probably want to be alone.”

  Carrie tilted her head. She’d seen a whole new Shay tonight—one who was just as wild and raw, but who also had stopped issuing sexual challenges. Touched by her sincerity, and knowing Chris enjoyed watching them together, Carrie said, “No, come along.” Then she leaned in, whispering in Shay’s ear. “Chris likes watching us.”

  Shay winked. “You’re getting the hang of this more and more, sweets.”

  * * * * *

  “Come in here.” Chris pulled her by the wrist into the same sex shop where they’d bought vibrators a few nights ago.

  “Why?” she said, laughing.

  God, she looked beautiful, the daisies on her breasts peeking out from behind the black lace that covered them again. He couldn’t stop thinking about how smooth and naked her sweet pussy was under that short skirt, either. “I want to pick something up.”

  “Well, I want to fuck you, so make it fast.” How was it she could say that and still have it come out sounding so sweet and delicate?

  “Bossy,” he teased, leading her back to a set of shelves filled with fur-covered handcuffs, massage oil, edible body gel, and… “Voila,” he said, snatching up a package of body paints.

  “What’s that for?”

  “I decided Mr. Painter back there shouldn’t get to have all the fun.” In fact, he’d even felt slightly jealous of her interest in Mr. Painter, although her curiosity about a three-way with another guy had aroused the hell out of him. In fact, part of him wondered if maybe he should have encouraged her more, made it happen, because he knew he’d love to see her taking that much pleasure—but on the other hand, his chest had gotten just as warm when she’d said she wanted to get him alone. Even as exciting as it had been to fuck her in the club without a care for privacy, being alone appealed, too. It was two entirely different strains of excitement, and he relished them both equally.

  The moment they reached her room, he said, “Take your skirt off and let me see that pretty pussy.”

  He lay on the bed, watching as she first removed her sexy lace camisole, allowing him to feast his eyes on her daisy-laden breasts again, their pink centers as stiff as his cock. Then she turned her back to him and lowered her skirt, bending deep at the waist to give him a hot view from behind. He let out a low groan at the tempting sight.

  When she turned to face him, he let his gaze take in the whole incredibly erotic package before him—his beautiful strawberry-blonde angel with delicate white flowers arcing across her round breasts, her bare slit peeking from between black garters that led down to tantalizing fishnet stockings and sexy black boots.

  Lifting one boot onto the foot of the bed, she reached down to unzip it.

  “No,” he said. “Those stay on.”

  Her gaze took on a glassy sheen as she sensuously licked her upper lip. “Then it’s your turn. Get those pants off. Show me your big, beautiful cock.”

  Her demands made him harder. Angel or vixen? Definitely both. And he loved the two contrasting sides of her.

  Rising from the bed, he quickly rid himself of his shirt, kicked off his flip-flops, and let his shorts and underwear drop to the floor.

  Her eyes looked downright hungry as she spied his erection. He grinned. “Like what you see, baby?”

  She nodded. “Oh yes.”

  Taking a few steps toward her, he pushed her gently back onto the bed, onto her back. “Spread for me.”

  She parted her legs, her cunt opening instantly, allowing him to see all the wet pink folds within.

  Rushing to break into the little tins of body paint, he knelt on the floor between her bent knees and raked his finger through the tiny tub of green. Starting on one side of her pussy, he painted a wavy line up and around her belly button, and back down onto the other side. She watched, raised on her elbows.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s not obvious?” He punctuated the question with a laugh as he dipped his finger into the yellow paint.

  “Uh, no.”

  “Keep watching.” With that, he distributed fingertip dots of yellow here and there along the waving ribbon of green.

  Only when he started smearing thin white petals outward from the yellow blotches did she say with a smile, “Oh, more daisies.”

  He broke his gaze from the green vine arching up from her cunt to grin. “I thought your pussy should be decorated, too.”

  “Mmm,” she said as he drew tiny petals on the daisy closest to her cunt.

  “Does it feel good?” he whispered.

  She nodded.

  Then he lowered his tongue by a few inches, just enough to sink it into her and get a warm taste.

  “Oooh,” she moaned.

  He smiled, studying his creation, and decided it needed a finishing touch. One more daisy. Scooping just a dab of yellow onto his fingertip, he made a delicate circle at the very top of her slit. Moving his finger round and round, he glanced up to find her watching closely, lips sensually parted, eyes heated.

  Finally, he went for more white and stroked dainty petals upward into her pubic hair, out toward her hips, downward onto the soft flesh of her pussy.

  Lowering a kiss to her clit, he met her gaze. “Do you like it?”

  “Mmm, yes, baby.”

  He licked her again, slower, firmer this time, pressing his tongue solidly against the nub jutting from her folds.

  “Ohhhh,” she sighed.

  “More?” he teased.

  She nodded vigorously, her breath coming ragged now.

  He considered
tormenting her further, but he couldn’t resist the allure of the sweet, wet pussy glistening just below his face. Clearly, her cunt was in need of his attention and he was going to revel in giving it to her.

  Slowly, he sank his tongue deep into her soaking gap, easing it down, down, to her tight opening. The briny taste of her filled his senses as he stiffened his tongue into a tight roll and thrust it past her inner lips into the hole usually reserved for his cock or a vibrator.

  So warm. So wet. His tongue slid slickly in and out, fucking her, his whole face pressing into her, soaking in her wet folds.

  Above him, she whimpered and pushed back, sliding her cunt onto his rigid tongue. “More, baby. Please give me more,” she panted.

  Unfortunately, he couldn’t give her more tongue, but he could give her more of something else. Extracting his tongue, he dragged it up over her clit, delivering an open-mouthed French kiss to the needy nub. She howled with pleasure and he continued laving the pink protrusion as he reached beneath the foot of the bed, where they’d stashed the vibrators.

  He grabbed onto the first one he found—the middle-sized, cock-shaped one. Plunging it into the opening beneath his mouth, he twisted the end to turn it on. She cried out as the hum filled the air, and when he began to deliver smooth, hard strokes, she moaned at each. He sucked her clit in time with his thrusts and realized she was out of control with excitement in a matter of seconds. God, it killed him to think this was the first time she’d known such multiple pleasures, yet just the same, he was thrilled to be the man delivering them.

  That’s right, angel. Scream for me. Love to hear you scream.

  Her high-pitched cries fueled him as he sucked her clit and fucked her with the buzzing toy. His cock ached, rising taut against his stomach muscles. She was so fucking beautiful, so fucking real. How many slick, glossy women had he taken to bed only to discover personalities as manufactured as their enhanced breasts? How many girls-gone-wild who’d put on false all-sex, all-the-time personas to come to Key West and be something they weren’t for a few days? He’d never realized he might want more, might need more—but Carrie was forcing him to realize that maybe something had been missing in his life. Pleasuring her was almost like pleasuring himself; that’s how good it felt. Her reactions—ranging from tender and sweet to hot and dirty—drove him like nothing ever had before.

  So he licked her, harder, harder, her moans wafting over him as the reward for his toil until all he knew was the taste and scent of her juices, the sound of her pleasure, the pump of her cunt against his mouth and the whirring vibrator that filled her.

  When she came, her cries of joy crashed down over him like a wave of heat, but he didn’t stop working at her lovely little pussy—he raked his tongue over her again and again, wanting her to milk every drop of joy from her orgasm, wanting to stretch it out, longer, longer. He thrust the faux cock into her deeper, harder—and to his satisfaction, her hot moans and whimpers seemed to go on interminably, lasting long after he’d expected them to cease.

  After awhile, she finally quieted, her body trembling beneath him, her breath coming in short, quivery bursts. Lowering a final kiss to her clit, he rose to look at her. Her eyes were shut, her lips parted, her hair wild as it fanned around her on the bed.

  “How do you do that?” she said without opening her eyes.

  “Do what?”

  “Make me come so long.”

  He grinned. “Really? Your orgasm was extra-long? I thought maybe I imagined that because I wanted it to be true.”

  She nodded, looking exhausted. “I thought it would never end. I feel totally wrung out.”

  He thought back to the way she phrased the question, as if this were an ongoing phenomenon. “Has it been like that before? I mean, with me?”

  Another nod. “You give unbelievable climaxes.”

  A rush of masculine pride washed through him as he eased up onto the bed to lie beside her. He propped himself on one elbow and gazed down on her as he ran his hand over her stomach and up onto her daisy-painted breast. “You must inspire me.”

  She flashed him a coy grin. “I’m feeling sort of inspired myself.”

  Pushing to a sitting position, she reached down to run her palm over his thick cock. A ripple of pleasure buffeted him and he let out a light groan. “I thought you were wrung out.”

  “I am, but I’m suddenly feeling like an artiste,” she teased. He looked up to see she’d reached for the tins of color. “I can’t let such inspiration go to waste.”

  Chris grabbed a pillow for himself, putting his hands behind his head. He intended to have a good view of this. “What are you gonna paint on me, angel?”

  She stared off into space for a moment, as if seeking her muse, then lowered her gaze. “You’ll see,” she said with a smile.

  He watched as she dipped a gooey blob of yellow onto her finger.

  “Whoa, there, honey—that’s a lot of paint.”

  She began to smear it next to his cock, where it lay curved across his abdomen. “No delicate daisies for you.”

  “Ah, so I’m getting something big and manly,” he laughed, watching her work. After yellow, she made the same design on the other side of his shaft in blue. A little farther down, she worked with orange, and then, beneath the original yellow shape, she created one in green. Watching intently as she created stripes of different colors in odd shapes, then filled in eyes, he finally figured out what she was painting. He spoke dryly. “I’m getting something big and manly like…fish?”

  She gave him a cute smile. “I thought they related to your livelihood, you know?”

  He couldn’t help grinning. God, she was adorable.

  “And besides, I’m not really an artist. But I thought I could probably do passable fish.”

  They both looked down at her creation. “Why are they staring at my cock?” he asked.

  She tilted her head, considering the question. “I guess they’re just amazed by how big it is.”

  He nodded with gratification. “So they’re girl fish.”

  She laughed. “I guess so.”

  But, still studying them, he tilted his head the other way, having come up with a more compelling thought. “Or maybe they’re guy fish…and they’re waiting to see you put it in your mouth.”

  Leaning her face down low over him as she gripped his thighs, she sensuously licked her upper lip. “Do you like to watch me do that, baby?”

  As his dick turned even more rigid, he arched one brow in her direction. “Watching you go down on me is almost enough to make me come. When you slide those pretty lips up and down…mmm, angel, there aren’t any words to describe how good it feels.”

  Still meeting his gaze, she raked the tip of her tongue from the base of his cock upward in a long, slow line. He let out a groan and tried to muster a smile, but damn, she turned him so weak sometimes.

  Wrapping her fist around his erection, she levered it upright and licked his pre-come off the tip, sending another frisson of pleasure ricocheting through him. Then she treated him to another of her sweet, angelic smiles as she glanced down. “I think the fish are enjoying this.”

  He nodded against the pillow. “I think so, too.” He summoned a wicked expression. “They want more, though.”

  Her look was one of playful amusement. “Oh, they do, huh?”

  He gave another nod.

  She licked her lips, suddenly looking seductive as hell. “Well, that’s good, because I want more, too. I want my mouth filled with this beautiful cock.”

  Just the promise sent a dart of sensation plunging through him, even before she poised her rounded lips at the head of his shaft and sank down, enveloping him in wet warmth. A moan escaped him as he watched her lips spreading into a wide “o” to cocoon his erection. She went low, lower—his cock pulsed madly when he felt the tip being eased toward her throat. As he’d told her, she looked so incredibly beautiful taking him into her this way, her eyes both earnest and glassy with passion as he watched her wo
rk.

  Finally, she pulled back, just slightly, enough to move her mouth up and down his length in long, smooth strokes that wrapped around him nearly as snug as her perfect pussy. He softly met her strokes, gently thrusting between her welcoming lips. Without quite planning it, he reached down, locking his fingers into her spiraling curls. “Yeah, baby, so good,” he breathed over her. “So fucking good.”

  She sucked him that way for a long while, so long that he was amazed he could keep from coming. Although he’d had enough practice that he could generally hold back and pleasure a woman for as long as he wanted, with Carrie, it continued to be different. It wasn’t that his control had faded entirely, but she certainly taxed it. She lifted him to levels of excitement he’d never experienced before. And each pull of her mouth on his cock sent a tugging sensation somewhere else, as well—to his heart. He’d felt the strange sensation with her from the beginning, but every day he spent with her, it grew stronger, as if a string were connected from his chest to his groin. Every time he felt something down there, he felt it moving through him up above, too.

  Finally, she pulled back, freeing her mouth to cast a sexy smile over his wet shaft.

  “What happened to the innocent little angel I met a few days ago?” he asked.

  “She traded in her wings and halo and got you. A very good deal.”

  He grinned. “You think so?”

  “Definitely. I’m so glad I didn’t marry Jon. If I had, I’d have never gotten to experience you, and everything we’ve done together.”

  “Wow.” He’d given her enough that she was actually thankful her marriage had fallen through? His chest pulled tight and he found himself thinking about what Shay had said. That Carrie was different. That Shay was afraid he would change because of her. Even leave to be with her.

  He pulled in his breath, realizing it almost sounded easy. To leave when she did. To go wherever she went. To give up the life he’d worked so hard to build here.