Fall Into Love (Simone: Part One Naughty Nookie Series) by Serena Akeroyd Read Free Book Online

eyes are glued to his
cock.  It’s glistening with my moisture and the condom
covering his length is filled with his cum.  It’s a statement
of how my mind had imploded that I didn’t realize he’d protected
the pair of us.
    Thank God one of us had the foresight to be
careful. 
    I’m momentarily ashamed of myself and then
my eyes wander over his balls and my attention is captured.
 Hanging heavily between his slightly parted legs, they’re a
darker brown than his body.  And it’s only then that I realize
he’s completely bare down there.  I’ve never done more than a
quick trim and before I can let myself dwell on worries of my
un-denuded state freaking him out, I urge myself to touch
him. 
    Gripping the base of his
shaft, I slowly roll the condom upwards, revealing the slightly
brown, purply pink flesh to my gaze.  This too is wet. 
With the condom in my hand, I climb off the bed, uncaring of my
nakedness—something which has never happened before!—and I stride
toward a door I can only assume houses the
bathroom. 
    The opulence of the suite astounds me. 
The bathroom is a mass of Italian amber marble complete with chrome
and glass accessories.  A huge tub fills one corner; a shower
with an astounding amount of shower heads another.  One wall
is taken up with a vanity mirror and sinks.  Spotting a bin
underneath the vanity, I dispose of the condom and then, spying a
wad of washcloths on the counter, I grab one, turn the faucet and
run the water until it’s tepid warm then douse the material in
it. 
    Retreating to the suite with its impressive
décor; a bed that takes up half the room and soft furnishings that
I would love to have in my own place but could never afford, their
luxuriousness disappears as I focus on Zane. 
    He’s still laying there,
his body bared to mine, but his arm is covering his eyes. 
Wondering if he’s embarrassed, I say nothing, just wrap the
washcloth about his cock and clean it as gently as I can. 
Marina said to me once that I didn’t have to be careful when giving
a guy a hand job.  That they liked a hard and firm grip. 
Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know, but I’ll give it a go
tonight.  My ex didn’t like me to touch him. 
    I’m only now starting to see how weird he
was. 
    Zane hisses as I slowly stroke him with the
washcloth, and I’m thrilled when his cock is once more revived into
an erection with only that slight touch.  His breathing comes
harder; I watch the fast fall and rise of his torso. The tattoo on
his bicep, a hissing snake, undulates as he tenses his arms,
seeking control. 
    Removing the washcloth once I can feel it
grow cold, I lick my lips at the sight of the impressive piece of
flesh in my hand.  It’s huge.  My hands are pretty small,
dainty I guess you could call them, but my left one barely fits
around him.  I press down and start to stroke him, while with
my right, I cup his balls and begin to squeeze.
    In my mind, I’m running through everything
Marina and Eddie ever taught me.  The advice and tips they
gave me during the wasted years of my marriage, as I sought to
entice and please my husband. 
    That might have been a waste, but those
lessons are coming in handy now.
    My own body quickens at the sight of his
pleasure as I gently fist his balls and rub the two together like
two Chinese Baoding balls, only without the chime!  All the
while, I’m trying to be careful, but mindful of the fact that men
supposedly like a firm hand. 
    When a bead of pre-cum appears, I bend down
and lap at it with my tongue, pleased at the visual confirmation
that I’m doing a good job.  It tastes salty, slightly
disgusting if I’m honest, but it’s more than just semen.  It’s
arousal.  A physical reaction that I alone inspired and as
such, it tastes like amber nectar. 
    My tongue laps away whenever a bead appears
and at my touch, more and more make an appearance.  I begin to
suck down on the glans, pleased when his hips jerk