by K D Grace
‘I’ve got to come,’ he gasped. ‘I can’t wait any longer.’
‘I want you to come. I want you to come on me, to mark me like I marked you.’ She could feel the pressure building, she could feel him tense until he was like iron, as she sucked and tugged at the length of him.
When the first splash of semen exploded onto her neck and breasts, her pussy clenched against his mouth as she came. She cupped and rubbed and stroked his wetness all over her, spreading the sticky ozone of him onto her tits and buttocks and face. Then she wiped the slippery fragrance of her pussy over his chest and stomach and down his thighs, until they were blanketed in the scent of their blending.
In a tangle of arms and legs, they caught their breath in the strong odour of mutually marked territory. A good sniff aimed in the right direction seemed much more effective than the complications of modern mating rituals. Perhaps Chloe was a throwback to a more sensate, more feral past, but as she breathed in the storm cloud scent of Matt Engel intimating more heat to come, that didn’t seem like such a bad thing after all.
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