My Dirty Desires

by Melissa Devenport

  When he tasted my juices he started licking even faster and within seconds I could feel my pussy exploding in his mouth.

  I felt him sucking at my hole and drinking down the nectar that he so greedily wanted, all while staring into each other’s eyes.

  “Fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” I was panting for him like a bitch in heat and he enjoyed every second of it.

  I had to push his face away from my pussy when I was done. I was sensitive and my pussy couldn’t cum anymore.

  “That was tasty. I can’t wait to do it all over again.” He whispered, laying his body on top of mine.

  “If you want to spend the night we can take a small break and keep going.” I raised my eyebrows, challenging him to take the step of a sleepover.

  “I would love that.” He answered without hesitation.

  We both wanted what we had been missing out on. It was clear that Adam wasn’t used to be treated this way. I felt really good that I could keep his attention and I didn’t plan to let go of it anytime soon.

  Adam got off me and I showed him where the bathroom was. I couldn’t stop smiling. For once in my life I was truly happy with where my life was headed.

  I walked back into the living room before he came out, slipped out of my shorts and spread my legs wide. My swollen clit was peeking out from between my pussy lips. I smiled.

  I wanted to surprise Adam when he returned to the living room. I needed to get him hard so that we could start up again as soon as possible.

  An idea finally came to mind as I grabbed and massaged my tits. He was so intent on staring at me, seeing how far I would go to pleasure myself while he was licking my pussy. Just the memory had me suck in my breath and hold it for a second.

  Letting it out slowly, I opened my mouth wide and brought it as close as I could to my right tit. I pushed it up to my mouth and managed to wrap my lips around my nipple and sucked it in.

  I heard the bathroom door open. In just seconds I was going to see his reaction when he returned.

  Chapter 14

  Winning the Game

  Adam walked into the living room. He looked tired at first, but that changed fast when he saw me with my tit in my mouth, my legs spread wide and me fondling my other tit. His blue eyes were wide open and a big smile spread across his face.

  He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. He was clearly enjoying the show I was putting on for him.

  “I see that you started round two without me.” He murmured and reached down for his cock that was getting harder.

  Adam slid his hand up and down his cock as he moved away from the doorway. He sat down on the couch beside me for a closer look.

  “You’re good at that, huh?” He whispered in my ear. I whimpered as he sucked my earlobe between his lips.

  “Yes, you’re very good at being my naughty girl.” He continued while nibbling and licking my earlobe. His hot breath in my ear was driving me wild.

  I let go of my tit and Adam quickly took over where I had left off.

  He put his mouth to my breast and started sucking it. Then he slapped my hand away from the other one that I was massaging so he could pinch my hard nipple.

  I quickly reached out for his cock and ran my hand up and down with a firm grip. It grow bigger in my hand by every stroke.

  “I never thought I would find this side of me.” I moaned as I felt his hand leave my tit and slide down my stomach to my pussy.

  “I’m glad you did. And I’m glad that you wanted to share it with me. I hate to think what would be right now if you hadn’t showed up at my pub.” Adam whispered and moved his mouth away from my tit.

  We touched and petted each other as we talked.

  “I thought I just wanted a big cock inside me, and I still want that, but I want it to be yours. I want your big cock to be mine.” I confessed to him, biting down on my lip.

  I was falling in love with his cock and knew that in time I would also fall in love with him. I was already half way there with his good looks and amazing body.

  It wasn’t what I originally had been looking for, but here I was on the couch confessing my newfound feelings. Maybe it was just a big mistake and he would laugh it off.

  “If I just wanted a one night stand I wouldn’t have come here tonight and I wouldn’t be staying the night. I would’ve taken your phone number and your address and tossed it into the nearest trash can after you left.” He moaned, flexing his cock against my hand.

  I smiled up at him and felt glad that we were on the same page.

  “You’re different than the other women I’ve been with. You always make it interesting Melissa. Yesterday at the pub was amazing. I was actually already thinking about asking you out on a real date when we were sitting in the booth together.” He murmured, kissing me softly on the mouth.

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the soft kisses. He was sliding his tongue slowly between my lips as his hand massaged the side of my face with a light touch.

  The closeness and softness were there as well as the wild and hard love making.

  “God Adam, I wish I had found you sooner.” I whispered against his mouth.

  “If we had met sooner we wouldn’t be enjoying this moment right now. I’m glad that you came into my life when you did.” Adam stated, pulling his mouth away from mine.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked, remembering how many times he had asked me that same question the night before.

  “I’m thinking about licking that hot pussy again. My cock is hard for your mouth and there’s one thing that I would love to do right now.” He grunted as he put me in a laying position on my back.

  He turned around with his back to me and his cock was inching closer and closer to my mouth.

  “This is actually one of my favorite positions. I think we should play a game.” I giggled, watching the head of his cock move closer and closer to my mouth.

  “What’s that?” He asked and stopped just before he was about to slip his prick into my mouth.

  “Whoever comes first loses.” I laughed as I lifted my head off the couch to suck the head of his cock into my mouth. The game was on.

  I giggled when I felt him spread my pussy lips with his fingers. His tongue was teasing my clit slowly before I felt it slide deep down into my pussy.

  I was proud of myself. A complete stranger had shown me who I really was. He had brought out the woman that I always wanted to be. My first fantasy had already come true and now I was just adding to it. I was going with the flow and everything seemed to be working out wonderfully in my favor.

  I felt Adam push his cock further into my mouth. The head of it poked against the back of my throat, but this time I didn’t gag. I was getting used to its large size and my initial concerns were long gone. Now I could just focus on the pleasure of feeling completely stretched out. This cock was all mine and I planned on keeping it that way.

  I grabbed for Adam’s hips and forced his cock further down my throat, loving the hardness that was filling my mouth.

  I closed my eyes tightly and was determined to win this game. No matter what it took. No matter how crazy I had to get in order to keep Adam coming back. I was far from done with him.

  One last push and he was all the way down my throat. I felt his cock cumming hard and I moaned in victory.

  Chapter 15

  Taking it Slow

  The following weeks were some of the most liberating and uncomplicated I had experienced in many years. Me and Adam were having a lot of fun and got to know one another pretty well as we expanded our dates to also include activities outside the bedroom. Our friendship developed into something that very much resembled a romantic relationship even though very little was said to confirm it. I think we were both very happy for where we were at and therefore didn’t feel any pressure to label our status.

  It was very uplifting to shift focus from endless disappointments to something very far from it. A heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders.


  I finally began to understand how deep I had sunken before enough was enough. The sun felt different on my face. It was soothing and warm instead of just making me sweaty and nauseous. My senses were heightened and I was keenly aware of the world. I could even tell the difference between roses and lilies with my eyes closed. It was as if the number of birds singing had doubled. Amazing.

  This awakening made me promise myself never to suppress my own well-being ever again. Sure, I would eventually like to see myself in a steady relationship. But everything felt really good right now and there were no need to push anything.

  Maybe Adam could be the one? Maybe not. But it didn’t matter. We had fun. I had a home of my own, money on the bank, a nice car and the future felt exciting. Everything had happened so fast. Maybe it is true that everything happens for a reason.

  Of course I occasionally wondered how Allen was doing. After all, we had spent most of our adult lives together. I didn’t wish him the worst, but I was pretty sure he would get what was coming to him. The thought of Allen vs. Karma was pretty entertaining. Maybe he could learn a thing or two.

  I knew in my heart that I would never end up in a similar situation such as the one I had just left behind. A worn out phrase came to mind; Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I felt no bitterness as I whispered it to myself with a smile on my lips.

  The End

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  COMING UP NEXT

  a sample of the new series

  FORBIDDEN PASSION

  from the first book

  Cuffed & Dominated

  co-written by

  Melissa Devenport and Camille Crosby

  Chapter 1

  The Funeral

  Charlene Penticton raised her head and stared at the shiny, somber black box at the front of the church. Her father, Charles Albert Ray Penticton had been the last family member she had left. At twenty-six she was unprepared to face the world totally alone.

  The huge church was packed. Charles had been a good, fair man and people loved him. Business associates, old and new friends and those he had mentored and befriended throughout his too short life packed the church almost full.

  The rows of pews with the somber faced, tear filled eyes were so orderly that Charlene wanted to scream. She kept her back carefully turned to them, kept her eyes glued to the front. A strange numbness settled over her. She blinked, trying to dispel the wild, detached feeling. It was like she was standing somewhere else, on the roof perhaps, if such a feat were possible, staring down at the rest of the people gathered there.

  “We commit this soul to god,” the pastor’s deep voice boomed out over the people assembled.

  Charlene barely heard it. She imagined herself, long blonde hair curled and pinned up, not a tendril out of place. Her neck was bent, exposing the strand of pearls that had been her sweet sixteen birthday gift from her father. Her black dress was expensive silk, the best she owned. It fit her well but hid the lush, womanly curves that lay below. It was a chaste dress. She’d picked it in Paris when her father took her with him on a business trip just short of her twentieth birthday.

  He had always urged her to choose her purchases with care. To create an image that reflected her personality. She’d picked the dress because she saw it as something that was classy and tasteful. Because it was black, with a tight fitting waist, flared skirt that fell to the knee and a sheer, lace pane in the back by her shoulders, it was feminine and dainty.

  Her father had loved that dress. She remembered trying it on for him, spinning around, feeling like a dark fairy. The shine of love in his eyes had been unmistakable. He’d proudly escorted her to dinner, a small place with tables that spilled into the cobbled street.

  Charlene felt the sting of tears well at the corners of her eyes. Her throat closed painfully, the fire of grief burning its way up her throat and flooding her mouth. She blinked rapidly and forced herself to take deep, steadying breaths.

  She raised her head again when she was able, slamming back down into her body. The sense of detachment was gone. She knew that in a few hours, her father would be laid to rest under layers of black soil. She would never see him again.

  “Daddy,” she breathed out, the world inaudible to anyone around her. The cancer had come so quickly for him, reducing him to a shell of the man he once was. His suffering had thankfully been brief. In less than three months it was all over. A promising, beautiful flame snuffed out, plunging Charlene’s world into darkness.

  The aged pastor droned on. This had been part of her father’s last wishes. To have a proper church burial though to the best of her knowledge, he hadn’t been religious.

  Charlene had gone through the motions of death and grief woodenly. She chose a casket with care. Drained the last of her savings account so her father could have the best in death as he’d given her in life. Throughout the last months of her father’s illness she’d nursed him. She had that consolation at least. That ironically, her profession should have been so apt. She’d quit her job at the hospital, giving up her coveted nursing position so she could be at Charles’s side day and night.

  She just hoped the will would be sorted out soon. She didn’t know how she was going to scrape together enough money to make her mortgage after all the expenses. She had enough left for one month. Enough to see her through.

  Panic welled in up Charlene’s chest as she thought of returning to her house, the cold, empty rooms providing no solace for her pent up grief and wild rage.

  The house wasn’t a mansion but it had been the one she’d been raised in since the time she was a small baby. Her mother had left them when Charlene was four years old. She hardly recalled what Clair Penticton even looked like. She didn’t even know fully why she’d left. All her father ever told Charlene over the years was that he never had any doubts her mother loved her. He shouldered the blame and never spoke ill of the woman he had loved and married, who had born his child and vanished.

  Their home had always felt like a home. Would it now be little more than a cage of memories? Charles Penticton worked hard. He traveled for business and Charlene had seen much of the world on his trips. He’d moved heaven and earth to be both father and mother to her.

  And now she had neither.

  A sudden burst of piano music brought Charlene out of her dazed memories. She struggled to tear herself away from the pit of anxious worries, of cold, hard grief that threatened to consume her. There was an elderly woman at the piano. She had a kindly face. She closed her eyes when she played.

  Charlene imagined the woman’s arms, soft and warm and grandmotherly. What would she give right now for a kind touch? For a few words of encouragement that would help her go on living.

  Soon it was all over. The pallbearers lifted the coffin and filed slowly past Charlene’s front row pew. She felt as though if she wanted to cry it would be acceptable in that moment. Ironically enough, the tears refused to come.

  She turned to watch the six men bear her father down the aisle to his final resting place, the tiny grave yard outside. It seemed perfectly suited to the man that he had been in his life, the man who valued love and family over anything else, that he should choose this quaint little Williamsburg church with the tiny plot of land beside it. In all of Virginia- no, in all of the world, nothing seemed more fitting.

  Charlene’s gaze followed the stoic, broad backs of the last two men, friends of her father. They had discussed all this when he’d found out he was ill. It was like he knew it was his time. She’d been so shocked that he arranged everything so quickly in order to spare her. He had even contacted the men who were bearing him away now, personally, before his illness had him in the grips of pain so intense it was madness.

  The church doors were opened and the bearers moved through the day lit portal. Sunbeams spilled onto the red carpet of the little church.
Charlene wondered if they would ever feel warm on her skin again. Was grief always that way? Like a hard ball of ice freezing the insides so the outer layers felt no warmth?

  She copied the rest of the people assembled and rose from the pew woodenly. Her actions were guided by the masses. Her eyes fell on the last pew, the one closest to the door as she began the long, torturous journey down that same aisle her father had been borne.

  Charlene blinked when she saw him. Once. Twice. Her long, honeyed lashes framing shockingly emerald eyes. She stopped walking, shock gripping and squeezing her lungs so that they refused to take another breath. Chest on fire, she waited. He saw her and he stopped to. Their eyes met and the world closed in around them.

  He looked exactly as she remembered him.

  She was relieved when he turned his back and filed out ahead of her, into the open air. The rushing blackness rushing at the corners of her vision faded away. Her burning lungs inflated with life giving oxygen.

  Ten years. It had been ten years since she’d last seen her father’s closest friend, Clayton Ellison. Now that her father was dead he could not have prevented the man’s coming. They had broken years ago, their friendship in ruins. Had he come to pay his last respects, wish the man who was once a brother to him, a final farewell or had he come for something more?

  “Clayton,” Charlene whispered, her words evaporating in the church like the fog of breath on a cold winter morning.

  Charlene squared her shoulders and forced her wooden legs to take the required amount of steps to propel her into the heat of the mid July day. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. A tiny spark of hope bloomed. Perhaps she wasn’t as alone as she had thought.

  Chapter 2

  A Ghost From the Past

  Clayton Ellison was aware of the people milling around the graveyard. Sober, black clad, their grief hanging in the air, suspended about them. His own chest felt curiously compressed. The hard bands of grief that clenched his heart told him that his college friend was dead yet he refused to believe it. Charles couldn’t be gone. Not yet. They had never officially made amends.