Sensuous Stories by Keziah Hill Read Free Book Online Page A

were completely covered
with wet paper and honey, he stood back and smiled at her. “So
beautiful,” he said. “You are perfect.”
    Her breasts felt heavy and sensitive,
wanting to be touched. Her nipples were hard and stuck out from the
thin paper.
    He took the bowl from her at put it aside.
Placing a small footstool between her legs, he opened the leather
covered version of Lorna Doone, leant forward so his mouth was just
at the entrance to her cunt and proceeded to read.
    “ If anybody care to read a
simple tale told simply, I, John Ridd, of the parish of Oare, in
the county of Somerset, yeoman and churchwarden, have seen and had
a share in some doing of this neighbourhood, which I will try to
set down in order, God sparing my life and memory.”
    His voice was like the honey on her breasts,
dark and sweet. She could feel his warm breath on her clit as he
read and closed her eyes feeling, as always, the need to lift her
hips to meet his mouth. But she knew he wouldn’t like that. This
moment was just for him. But he was generous and she knew she
wouldn’t be left unsatisfied. She opened her eyes and looked down
at him, the book in one hand and his cock in the other. He
continued to read.
    “ I had never heard so sweet
a sound as came from between her bright red lips...”
    She closed her eyes again and leant her head
back on the couch feeling the words slide around her wet lips and
into her. The walls of her cunt stretched and a humming vibration
pulsed deep in her belly. Every small gush of moisture in her pussy
intensified the feel of his breath on her clit.
    She opened her eyes to see him pumping
himself faster and faster.
    Her cunt pulsed now to the rhythm of his
voice. She inched her hand through her curls getting her fingers
closer to her clit when his voice started breaking. He stood, and
throwing back his head, groaned and pumped his cock furiously.
Semen splattered onto her breasts and dribbled down her belly.
    He came to himself and breathing heavily,
knelt on the footstool. This was the moment she’d been waiting for
all day. He placed his hands on her breasts and squeezed, smearing
the honey, semen and wet paper into a messy paste. She pushed two
fingers into her cunt and moved them in and out as he licked her
breasts, taking in the gooey honey mixture. In this moment she
always felt the need to push her fingers in hard, wanting to keep
his voice inside her.
    His tongue and mouth sucked and licked all
over her breasts leaving the nipples until the end. She started
rubbing her clit as he finally sucked her nipples, gently at first
and then hard and rhythmically. As his tongue flicked her wet,
sticky nipples, she felt a strong throb, deep in her cunt.
    Her climax exploded through her, making her
shriek and thrust her breast further into Alfred’s mouth. She fell
back against the couch while Alfred rested, his head on her
belly.
    “ That was lovely, my dear,
the best yet,” he murmured.
    She sat back with her eyes closed, feeling
his finger lightly touch the tip of her nipple.
    “ So beautiful,” he
whispered.
     
    The following month Ellen received a package
in the mail, the day before her usual appointment with Alfred. In
it was a tape, the calf bound copy of Lorna Doone, a cheque for ten
thousand dollars and a note from his solicitor telling her Alfred
died a week ago. Unexpected grief knifed through her. She realised
she would miss him terribly. Not only because he’d been a good and
kind man, but when they were together she’d felt cherished.
    She placed the tape in a cassette player and
listened to Alfred read Lorna Doone. Even in her grief, his voice
had the power to arouse her, make her crave the feel of his mouth
near her cunt and on her breasts, telling her tales, taking her
somewhere else. She wanted her breasts to be coated in honey again
while waiting for his mouth to suck hard on her nipples.
    Over the next months she slumped into
despondency, unable to find pleasure in the usual