by Anne Lange
Angela’s breasts swelled in his hands. With every surge of arousal more wetness pooled between her thighs.
Her head thrown back in utter bliss, Angela felt each tender tug low in her belly as if there were a string connecting her nipples to her clit. She opened her eyes and looked straight out the back window into the starlit night.
Good heavens. Anybody could walk up to the patio door and see what they were doing. Her hands tunneled into his hair, holding him to her chest. She couldn’t bear for him to continue; she couldn’t let him stop.
Connor licked his way down her torso until his knees hit the floor. When he popped back up, she blinked. The flames in his eyes burned white hot. His voice, when he spoke, was low and husky.
“Don’t move.” He left her sitting on the counter and disappeared into the dining room.
Her gaze lifted once more to the window, and the naked reflection of her perched next to her canister set. Her chest rose and fell with each breath. This far across the room, she couldn’t make out the details of her own face, but she imagined the lust in her eyes and the blush in her cheeks.
He returned with a chair, spun it around, and placed it directly in front of her. Then he sat down, his hot breath level with her hungry pussy.
“Perfect,” he said, lifting her right foot. He proceeded to kiss the tender areas on the inside of her leg, starting below her knee and trailing his tongue along the underside, up to the juncture between her thighs. He stopped just before reaching the place where she ached for his touch. Holding her at the knee, he lifted her leg up, pressing back until her foot rested on the counter, then switched to her left foot, starting the delicious trek all over again. When he reached the same spot on that thigh he stopped again, lifting her leg so her other foot rested on the counter. The position forced her to lean backward to maintain her balance, her legs splayed wide open before him, baring it all.
Holding her breath, literally on the edge, she looked down between her spread knees. Vulnerable. Wanton. Excited. Nervous as hell. Angela tried to swallow, but had no saliva left. She waited. She begged him to continue. If only he would glance up and see her plea.
Connor’s gaze meandered up to her belly button, along her tummy, and up over her breasts until he reached her face at last. He gave her the most wicked smile and, holding her in his sights, he blew a soft little puff of air over her mound, cooling the heated flesh.
Anticipating his next move, she gulped. His eyes never left hers. He traced a finger up and down her slick opening. She trembled. He dipped his finger inside, pushing past the second knuckle. Then he pulled it out, raised it to his face, and popped it in his mouth, sucking it clean.
His iris’s darkened. They blazed. Just before she melted right there on her granite counter top, he leaned in close and ran is tongue along her moist slit. The moan that slipped out encouraged him to dive in. With a hand on each thigh he held her open while he licked, like a cat lapping a bowl of cream, trying to get every last drop.
In moments, her breathing became heavier, and she could feel her body begin its climb toward climax. Her juices pooled, running from her core down to her ass as her excitement increased. Connor grunted his approval, drinking the evidence of her desire.
Her legs trembled. He eased up enough that her orgasm backed off to hover just out of reach. Then he started again. Licking, sucking, ramping her up to a point of no return before he pulled way, and kissed each inner thigh, his warm breath a caress across her sensitized skin.
He continued the torment until she couldn’t stand it anymore and became frantic for release. By now she sagged back on her arms, her head butting the lower edge of the cabinet above. She’d probably end up with a goose egg, but she didn’t care. She pushed her pelvis toward his face, her entire being focused on achieving the prize. She considered begging him to have mercy on her.
Connor feasted like a starving man who didn’t know when he’d have his next meal. He suddenly became more aggressive, his tongue almost too rough on her delicate tissue, but the slight twinge of pain appeared to be the trigger she sought. It took a few firm swipes, and he pushed her into an almost violent orgasm.
A meltdown was underway. While her body convulsed in aftershocks, Connor stood and donned the condom he had set on the counter beside her. When had he done that? At least somebody in the room had a functioning brain. She scolded herself for not paying attention.
Reaching behind her he tugged her butt closer to the edge and placed his hands on her knees to keep her spread open for his invasion. Uttering a low growl, he plunged inside in one hard, deep stroke.
Seated as far as he could go, he gripped her hips. Holding them in an almost bruising fashion, he began slamming into her. Skin slapped against moist skin. Connor grunted with the force of each impact. She knew it wouldn’t take long for him, and on his way he would take her with him. She didn’t know if she had another one in her, but she clung to him, eager and anticipating the outcome.
A low moan started to rise from within. She could feel it building, demanding its own release, and she could sense a similar one coming from her lover. He reached between them with one hand and pinched her right nipple—hard. Then he moved down to where their bodies joined to stroke his thumb over her clit. It was no gentle touch this time, but firm pressure, demanding she come.
One simple touch. But then again, none of this was simple.
Angela catapulted over the edge, stars bursting behind her closed eyes like holiday fireworks. Connor plunged deeper than she thought possible, and then with a roar he hit home for the finale. His large body shuddered in violent spasms with his climax.
He collapsed against her for few minutes, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.
“Wow,” he said. “That was…wow.”
Yeah, she understood.
They pulled away from each other, their bodies sticky with sweat, refusing to let go in some places. Spread out like a buffet, she looked around for something to cover her nakedness. Connor gazed at her, smiled, and leaned in for a lazy, soft, sweet kiss. His gentleness went a long way to erasing any embarrassment she might have felt. They were consenting adults. She refused to feel bad about any of it. She just wished her husband could have been there to watch and participate.
“Dinner…and dessert…were great,” he said. “Thank you.”
It felt odd to say you’re welcome, so she said, “Thank you, too.”
They dressed and, in a comfortable silence, worked together to finish the cleanup from dinner. With dishes done and the leftovers packaged and put away, she walked Connor to the front door. He swiveled on his heel to look at her.
“I’ll be back tomorrow first thing. I should be able complete the project well before end-of-day.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
With one last, lingering gaze, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Good night, Angela.”
He opened the door and walked through. She shut it and locked it behind him and then her body melted down the length of the wood until her bottom connected with the floor.
Holy crap.
But damn it, she forgot to ask him about a threesome. How does one ask a not-so-total stranger to stick around and have sex with a married couple?
Chapter Nine
After leaving Angela’s house, Connor walked around the neighborhood for a while. The night air was about ten degrees cooler than during the day and he felt refreshed and invigorated. The quiet calmed him.
Tyler and Angela lived in a nice area. If he were looking for a permanent place, he could settle here and be happy. There weren’t many streets in this small village, and they all seemed to intersect at some point as they meandered amongst the houses. It was a family-orientated neighborhood with a couple of parks, a school, and a small community center. Connor passed them on his stroll, taking the long route to his new temporary home.
As he walked along the edge of the road, his mind drifted. After spending such a short time with her, he co
uld see why Tyler fell in love with Angela. In a few days he’d seen the intelligence she possessed. She had a sense of humor and could take charge when she wanted something, whether it was doing something nice for her husband or in a sexual context. Most of all, when she mentioned her husband, she did so with obvious feeling. Connor respected her for that. He couldn’t stand women who trash-talked their spouses or boyfriends, or only cared about their own needs.
Cindy had been like that. She knew what she wanted and couldn’t fathom why he didn’t want the same things. She’d complained about him to anyone who’d listen, including her father. The word compromise didn’t exist in the woman’s vocabulary. In the end, he’d decided loving her, or making any sort of commitment to her, wasn’t in the cards. Hell, he didn’t even like her at this point. Unfortunately, his connection to her could make or break his career.
Tyler was one very lucky man. Connor hoped, for his friend’s sake, this experiment didn’t backfire and cost him his marriage, and destroy a great woman in the process.
Someday, he hoped to have a woman in his life who loved him like Angela loved Tyler. For now, he’d console himself with the fact he could help Tyler, and indulge his own sexual cravings while doing so. He wondered what Angela’s expression would be when she realized Tyler and he had been friends for years. His gut told him she’d be OK, but he felt certain she’d be pissed for a brief period. If he got wind of any trouble, then all bets were off as far as he was concerned. He’d make sure they remained friends, but he had no desire to interfere in their relationship in a negative way, regardless of Ty’s plans.
Connor reached his home and, once behind his locked door, grabbed a cold beer and plopped down in front of the television. It stayed off, however. Instead, he remembered Angela spread wide open on her kitchen counter, her hot, wet, pink flesh there for the taking.
Sex in the pool had been spontaneous, and erotic. It had been shocking for her to do it out in the open like that. It energized him.
When he’d walked into the kitchen to offer his assistance, his intentions had been honorable; however, as he’d stepped through the door, and seen her bending over the dishwasher, every respectable notion had fled his brain, and his single consideration had been to fill her sweet, tight depths again, to feel her softness hugging him.
He could still smell her essence and taste her sweetness on his tongue. When he closed his eyes he could envision the look on her face as she’d leaned back, pushing her pussy up to his mouth for more of what he gave her. She had been explosive in his arms and in on his tongue. He knew he’d been a little rough, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. The need to be inside her had overwhelmed him. And the feel of her—he became hard just remembering it. She’d been snug, and so very hot, milking him in the most fantastic way until she came. Connor reached down to squeeze his dick through his shorts at the memory.
He shook it off. Tomorrow was another day, and he couldn’t wait to see her again. He finished his beer and then turned out the lights as he headed toward his bedroom in the rear of the small bungalow. He paused in the doorway though, thinking a cold shower may be warranted before climbing into bed.
With a grunt, he peeled off his shirt, shucked his shorts and walked into his tiny en-suite, a smile on his face as thoughts of taking Angela under the spray of a warm shower filled his mind.
* * *
The phone rang just as Angela stepped from the shower. After Connor left, she’d finished in the kitchen, secured the house for the night, and decided on a quick shower before calling Tyler. But he beat her to it.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?”
She smiled and dropped down on the edge of their bed, a soft fluffy white towel wrapped around her. Her heart melted at the sound of her husband’s voice. Even after just having sex, her body readied itself, but this time for her husband.
“Interesting.” What an understatement.
“Really? How so? Did that contractor come back?”
“He did. I’ll have a surprise for you by the time you get home tomorrow.”
“That’s great. I love surprises. Maybe we should celebrate. How about a barbeque?”
“Well, I was thinking about that—”
“Hey, I know, why don’t you invite the contractor to stick around for dinner?”
She felt her face heat. “Um, sure I can do that. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the work he’s done.”
“What did you have him do?”
“Nice try.”
Her husband was nothing if not a little devious. The man couldn’t stand secrets. But this one time she wanted to surprise him with something he wasn’t expecting.
“Fine. Invite him for dinner. Then I can thank him myself for whatever it is you had him do while I’ve been away. “
“Good.” Now she had to find a way to suggest more than dinner.
“Angela?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you take my suggestion?” His eagerness came through loud and clear.
“Umm…”
“Baby, did you have sex with him?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracked on the whispered word. “Yes.”
She heard his groan through the telephone connection. “Was it good? Did you enjoy it?’
“Yes, and I did. You were in my head the entire time. You enjoyed it too.”
“Excuse me?” His sexy laugh reached her ears.
“Never mind. Are you sure you’re okay with this, Tyler?” Doubts and guilt started to fill her, yet again. She’d had sex with another man. Regardless of whether Tyler had given her permission to or not, he hadn’t been there. He was her husband; she’d made a commitment to him. What would other people think? Good God, what would their families think?
“Angie, I told you, I want to fulfill your fantasies. Believe me, you’re fulfilling mine too. I can’t wait to get home. Tell me what happened.” She envisioned him sitting on the edge of a chair, his eyes bright with anticipation, just as he’d been in her mind earlier.
She swallowed. One hand gripped the phone while the other played with the detailed edging on the towel. “We…um…went swimming. And he…ah…he cornered me in the shallow end, and then he, well, you know.” She sounded like an idiot.
“Did he touch you, baby?”
“Yes.” She closed her eyes.
“Did he kiss you?”
“Mm-hmm.” The image of the pool and the sensation of the cool water waving around their undulating bodies filled her head.
“Did he fuck you, sweetheart?” Had her husband’s breathing gone shallow? His voice had pitched lower. “Angela?”
“Yes, Tyler. He fucked me in our pool.”
She heard his quick intake of breath. “What else?”
“I fed him dinner, and then after we had sex on the kitchen counter in front of the patio window where anybody could have seen us.” She spewed the words out like her ass was on fire.
“Just sex?”
God, he wanted all the kinky details. So be it.
“No. First he licked and sucked on my pussy until I filled his mouth with my cum.” Naughty sensations at using such crude language assailed her. The image of her spread wide, Connor’s face buried between her thighs, flashed like a photo behind her eyelids. She parted her legs, letting the towel gape. Her hand strayed up her thigh to her hot, wet, swollen flesh. She stroked herself with very tips of her fingers.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes.”
“I can hear your breathing growing heavier, Angie. Are you touching yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Don’t stop.” In the background she heard the rasp of a zipper and a male grunt. “Was his tongue soft or hard as he licked you?”
“Both. Hard when he pushed it inside me.”
“Did he fill your hole with his tongue, baby?”
“Oh, yes.” She dipped two fingers into her pussy, plunging them as deep as possible. The walls of he
r vagina sucked them in further, fluttering in their attempt to fill her, making her wish for her husband’s cock instead of her ladylike digits.
“Rub your clit, honey. Rub your pretty button while I stroke my hard cock.”
She did, rubbing the pad of one finger in circles over it, every few strokes, dipping down her slit to moisten her fingers.
Tyler started to pant in her ear. “Did you come for him, Angie? Did you come all over his tongue?”
“I did.” Her words escaped on a ragged breath as she fell back on the bed and brought her feet up to rest on the edge of the mattress. She rubbed faster. Back and forth. Round and round. Tapping the little button a few times.
“Did he fuck you again, honey?”
“Oh, yes.” Her climax hovered nearby.
“Did he ram his hard dick into you?”
“Oh, yes.” Her legs started to tremble. She lifted her hips, arched her back, and circled her finger faster.
On the other end of the line, she heard Tyler groan low in his throat. “I’m going to explode any second.” He grunted.
She pictured his fist shuttling up and down his hard shaft, squeezing and pulling, more forceful than she would ever attempt herself.
“Did…did he fuck you hard…fast…oh shit…baby. Are you ready to come yet, honey?”
“Mm-hmm.” The ability to articulate coherent words was far beyond her. With her eyes closed, she tapped her clit, then slapped her palm against her pussy. Once. Twice. She pinched her clit—and exploded on a soundless cry, clamping her thighs tight around her hand as the evidence of her arousal spilled through her fingers.
At the other end of the line, her husband mumbled something undecipherable and then expelled a few harsh breaths. “Ah, fuck, sweetheart. That was so hot. Are you OK?”