"Sparkrock, Fred - Burning Desires" - читать интересную книгу автора (Sparkrock Fred)

"Have I ever told you, you're beautiful?" he asked rhetorically.

Her smile grew. "Several times. But don't stop, I like it!"

Suddenly she pouted, "There's something unfair about this arrangement!"

"What?" he asked, unable to remove his eyes from the naked beauty.

"You sure make it difficult for a girl," she continued in mock-disgust.
"You're lying there gawking with your clothes on!"

He glanced down at his jumpsuit, grinning sheepishly. In the excitement
of watching her expertly strip, he had simply forgotten. Three zippers,
two on his boots and one on his jumpsuit, rectified the situation. He
never bothered with underclothes.

She watched the hasty disrobing with an interest that matched his a few
moments ago. While he wasn't the most handsome man in the world, every
inch of his six-foot-three body rippled with the well-toned muscles of a
swimmer.

However, her eyes centered on the thick shaft that throbbed at her,
rising at a forty-five degree angle from the dark, curly forest covering
his groin. Her pink tongue flicked lightly over her lips leaving a moist
glistening trail. A dampness welled between her legs.

"How's that, woman?" he questioned, his white teeth flashing in a wide
grin.

She strutted before the man, her bulbous breasts bobbing in a
tantalizing dance of swaying motion. She stopped so that the hard buds
that precariously topped the fleshy mounds brushed the hairs of his
chest.

"I think I like you much better in the flesh," she said.

His arms reached out and encircled the woman, crushing her full length
to him, while his lips covered hers. His tongue greedily probed the
sweet warmth of her mouth. There was no resistance; she seemed to push
herself ever harder against his body, as if tying to climb up on him.
Her stomach swayed against his, rolling and teasing the swollen cock
that swelled between them. Both gasped for breath, when they finally
parted.

"I think you were mentioning something about a bust in the mouth a
moment ago," Ponkert said, his hands running up her satin-touch skin
until they cupped and raised the firm cones. "They used to say, more
than a mouthful is wasted. But somehow, I think they were wrong!"