French Quarter by Lacey Alexander (small books to read .TXT) 📕

sending shockwaves out to her fingers and toes. He was so incredibly large inside her; lowering her whole weight onto his cock brought home to her just how deep within her pussy he was, how well he filled her. As she began to fuck him, she twined her arms around his neck and drew him into a sensual kiss, unable to keep herself from it. She needed his mouth on hers, needed to consume him in any and every way she could.

As she gyrated on her lover, moving in hot, tight circles that brought her clit into sweet contact with the base of his shaft, she almost forgot where they were; it didn’t matter. All that mattered was having Jack’s enormous cock inside her, and riding him all the way to hot ecstasy. He held her hips, helping her move; he leaned in to suck her breasts, hard, harder. “Yes, so good, baby,” she whispered. “Suck them.” He did, more and more intensely, and it pushed her toward the orgasm that felt only heartbeats away.

Her cunt was filling with heat, and her tight circles grew smaller, giving her clit more and more strokes against him. Both of them were breathing hard, nearly panting, but it was drowned out by the music and all the moaning and cries on the stage.

Was anyone watching them? She didn’t look around to see because she really didn’t want to know, yet at the same time, she hoped desperately that someone in the room was watching her fuck him, witnessing the heat that passed between them as she drove her pussy down on his hot cock.

Finally, it hit—like a hot summer storm that gathered tremendous power before crashing down. Fierce sensations vibrated from her pussy outward until she was lost to them, replete in spasms of blinding pleasure. She bit her lip in order not to scream, but small, driving moans escaped her anyway as the staggering climax shuddered through her.

“Ah merde, me, too,” she heard Jack moan just as she finished, so she kept riding, riding him hard, and loved watching the agony of pleasure etch itself on his face as he pumped harder, deeper, gritting his teeth as he spilled himself inside her.

Then his arms closed warm around her and she lay her forehead over on his shoulder—trying to recover from the exhaustion of coming.

Slowly, she gathered her strength and rose up off of him, choosing to stay that way, up on her knees, until she felt his semen leaking down onto her thigh. One last command. “Rub your come into me,” she whispered.

He looked in her eyes, his own gaze dark and as filled with smoldering lust as she suspected her own had become. Then he shifted his attention to her pussy, lifting both hands to slowly smear the fluid onto her inner thighs as she straddled him. Finally, he drew his wet hands to her breasts, moving his palms in slick circles on her welcoming mounds. She closed her eyes and basked in the raw sensation of taking him into her in an entirely different, oh-so-sensuous way.

When he’d finished, she glanced over her shoulder to see the three cheerleaders still on the stage—all of them were naked now but for the ribbons in their hair. The room was awash in their moans as they slid colored vibrators in and out of each other’s pussies.

“Is Mistress Liz ready to get the hell outta here and go back to my place where I can fuck her some more?”

She turned back to Jack’s dark, hypnotizing gaze. “Mmm, yes, I think Mistress Liz is retired for the evening.” She let a small smile make its way to her lips. “But she hopes she surprised you. Excited you.”

He simply shook his head, as if in disbelief. “You have to ask?” he said as he zipped her dress back into place.

“I just want to hear it.”

She climbed off him, still feeling sexy in her leather and boots. He zipped himself up, too, then took her hand and led her to the door. Once they were outside, back in the wild hustle and bustle and neon of Bourbon Street, he turned to her. “I loved what you just did back there. I love everything you do to me, baby. I love helpin’ you explore this hot, dirty part of you. And I can’t get enough of you.”

Another arrow of hope pierced Liz’s heart. A man who couldn’t get enough of her might stick around for a while. But she tried not to dwell on a hope that seemed so dangerous, so thin—other lovers had professed devotion to her in the heat of the moment only to regret it later. So she just concentrated on the moment, since that had been working for her well enough so far. She concentrated on the sights and sounds and smells of the Quarter as they walked hand in hand through the party district, and then she focused on the quiet, the dark, the sultry night air, as they traversed the opposite end of Bourbon where Jack’s apartment was located.

Of course, all of that was about him. She might like to think she was taking in other things, but all of those sights, sounds, tastes, smells—they were Jack’s life, Jack’s world. And she couldn’t wait to get to his place, where she intended to give him all the pleasure he could handle.

* * * * *

“Move in with me.”

She opened her eyes the next morning to find Jack lying next to her, propped on one elbow. Both of them were naked and Liz could scarcely recall a time when she’d slept more peacefully than these last few nights with Jack. But his words shook her from sleep, startling her.

He kept making this request—a request she would surely dream about if it wasn’t being made only because she had a madman stalking her. What to say? She simply shook her head. “You’re sweet to ask, but…”

“But nothing, damn it. I want you here. Want