towards him. Cy had his belt off in an instant, pushed his boxers and pants down together, and pulled out a fully-formed, vein-pulsing erection.
Cy was already leaking out of himself in a light dribble. Trixie’s slit was already coated in lavender oil from his inner thigh massage. Nothing could keep them apart.
“Here.”
He placed his belt, now folded, in her mouth. The shockwave erupted in her body. Trixie urged him to hurry in a muffled cry. She felt like screaming, but couldn't, and bit down on his belt instead. That's when Cy drove himself up her gash. Trixie detonated at the precise moment that his cock mushroomed, propelling a river of cum up the furnace of her cunt. It was exactly what Trixie needed. She moaned as his shaft hardened and her cleft willingly took each thrust.
The last thought Trixie had before passing out was that Cy must have been erect the whole time he was giving her a massage… and how deliciously unprofessional that was of him.
When her mind became lucid again, she found herself lying on the massage table alone in the spa room. The robe from earlier had been placed over top of her otherwise naked body.
“Cy?”
She heard the sound of water running in an adjoining room, from which he emerged. His pants were already belted up again. He walked over and sat on the table beside her, putting an around Trixie's shoulders. She leaned against him, enjoying the feel of his body.
“Did anybody hear me?”
“I don’t think so. You took to the belt really well. Those teeth marks are permanent now,” he said, pointing to a set of crescent dimples in the leather. “And even if they did hear you, it’s not unheard of for women to orgasm during massage. It happens more than you think.”
“How long was I out?”
“A few minutes, but you were also mumbling in your sleep.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask. What did I say?”
“Something about the best sex of your life. I couldn’t take it personally, however, because a unicorn was involved. Apparently you plan on riding this steed in front of your friends as some kind of revenge?”
Trixie smiled and kept his secret nickname to herself.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The End of Firecracker #1
Author's Note
If you have ever considered redheadness to be the bane of your existence, bringing with it a host of assumptions people make about you because of that one trait alone, then perhaps those people simply aren't ready for your fiery mantle. If a natural ginger is too much for them to handle, then maybe they don't deserve to have one in their lives. After all, you were kissed by the kiln. They were taken out too soon.
L ove,
Megan
1. Fling to the Flame
Cy took a few days off from his job as a masseuse and kept Trixie busy for the balance of their weekend, all of which was spent in the Fairview Suite. There wasn’t a stretch of floor or expanse of wall that she hadn’t either been lying on or pushed up against. The sleigh beds were completely tossed by that point and she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Cy, short for Cyril, kept her busy. Trixie eventually learned his last name, right in the middle of being driven from behind. It hadn’t occurred to ask until that moment.
“Foley,” he answered in between breaths. “It means one who plunders ”.
A more fitting name there was not.
“Yes please Mister Foley,” she managed right before coming again.
Trixie happily gave herself over to his every errant desire. He deserved it. Cy had been there for her when she needed him most on the massage table, when his ministrations accidentally set off her detonation. She hadn’t released like that since, keeping her temperature at a simmer during their subsequent frolicking, but he wasn’t a selfish lover, and frequently made a point of satisfying her appetite as well.
If Trixie detonated like that again, so soon after the last two, there was no telling when her mind would return again,