Starlight (Peaches Monroe #2)(59)
Author: Mimi Strong

I smiled and took another bite of my treat, which was a lemon cake with white buttercream frosting and raspberry sauce. I’d opted to not get the ice cream, but only because I wanted to enjoy the flavors on their own, and not because I thought skipping ice cream would magically make me shed ten pounds before an underwear shoot the next day. I may be “prone to whimsy,” but not straight-up insanity.

Back at Keith’s place, we did something I’d never done with a guy before. Something intimate.

We sorted out our clothes into lights and darks and did laundry together. Hot!

My jeans mixed around in the washing machine with his jeans, inside the stacking washer and dryer units that had been retro-fitted into a storage closet.

When the clothes were dry, we took them out of the dryer, dumped them all on the bed, and folded them. I’ve never lived with a guy, so this was all incredibly novel to me, and made me feel like a sexy housewife—the way cooking for Keith made me feel.

He slayed me when he experimented with folding my panties, forming them into tidy squares or triangles. He was so serious about folding, and I couldn’t stop laughing at him.

We got everything put away, and then it was just us and a freshly-made bed.

I said, “If only I had something to give you for your birthday present, this would be the perfect time for me to give it to you.”

He grinned and started unbuttoning my frilly pink blouse, both of us standing at the foot of the bed.

“I could order you something online,” I said. “It would take a few days to arrive, but you could print out the picture in the meantime.”

He pulled the blouse away and let it fall, tickling my arms on the way to the floor. He leaned down and kissed the tops of my br**sts, held up high and proud in the pretty pink bra. Nodding down, I smelled the top of his head, taking in the scent of his scalp, which always smelled so good. His hands moved up and down my back, and then he was kissing my neck, his hands in my hair.

I reached down for his T-shirt and tugged it up and off so I could put my hands all over his hot skin. He kissed my shoulder as we closed the distance between us and rocked from side to side to…

“We should have music,” I murmured.

“Really?” He pulled away and turned the stereo on.

“Isn’t this your meditation music?”

“You don’t like it.”

“No, no. This music is nice. Is that a sitar? I feel like a snake charmer.” I moved my neck from side to side in a bad parody of a white girl doing a scene from Disney’s Aladdin.

“You’ve already charmed my snake, so whatever you’re doing, it’s working.”

I laughed and grabbed him so I could unfasten his pants and get him ready for the real snake charming event.

I pushed him, naked, onto the bed, and slipped out of my cargo shorts before climbing on alongside him, still wearing my nice underwear.

“You’re not naked,” he said.

“Think of me as a birthday present you unwrap a little at a time.”

He lay back and closed his eyes.

Instead of starting at the top, kissing his lips, I began at the bottom of his body, giving both of his feet a light, invigorating rub. He had nice toes. Men always have good feet, without bunions, because they don’t wear ridiculous shoes like we do. I rubbed his arches, then pulled his legs apart from each other so I could kneel in between them as I squeezed his calves.

I moved my hands up along the inside edges of his legs, making him laugh and squirm. He peered down at me. “I feel so vulnerable with my legs apart like this.”

“Now you know how girls feel.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what you girls see in big, hairy men.”

He was naked, so I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his cock. “You’re big, but you’re not that hairy.”

I moved back down a few inches with my body, and went back to rubbing his legs again. Keith grew very quiet and still, his eyes closed.

As I rubbed his legs and then moved my fingers up gradually to gently rub his sack and shaft, I watched him, thinking about how many girls would be looking at photos of him and imagining themselves doing what I was doing.

I glanced down at my body, and at all the natural creases forming from the position I was in, and for the first time since I’d gotten the underwear modeling offer, I imagined men looking at photos of me while they jerked off.

I may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but for a certain segment of men, I’m the bee’s knees.

As I took Keith’s c**k into my mouth, I thought about all those sexually frustrated men who couldn’t have me, and I got even more turned on. I threw one leg over his leg and rubbed up against his shin as I sucked his beautiful cock.

He was big and hard, like a tower that couldn’t be knocked down. I got excited, moaning and breathing hard—so much so, that he tapped me on the shoulder to check I was okay.

Embarrassed, I wiped my mouth and took a break, saying, “Just wanted you to have a good birthday.”

He sat up and put his arms around me. “I do have a request. Remember the first time? With our legs wrapped around each other?”

“That was fun.”

“Lay back and let me kiss you before we get started.”

I rolled onto my back and held my arms out for him, but instead of joining me for kissing on the mouth, he moved down and pulled my panties off. Oh. That kind of kissing. Well. Happy birthday to me, too!

He put a pillow under my hips, and then another pillow under his chest as he wriggled into place. “Perfect,” he said, bending my knees up and making his way down between my thighs. “Now just relax your legs open a little more.”

I giggled, because these sorts of instructions are funny at the doctor’s office and even funnier in bed.

He dove in, his tongue pushing down, and I sucked in a deep breath, no longer feeling the giggles. I grasped handfuls of the bedcovers as he bore down on my cl*t as eagerly as I’d enjoyed his c**k a moment earlier.

Taking his time, he brought me up, up, to the point of the waves crashing, but eased off instead, allowing the waves of pleasure to recede.

I begged. I pushed my pride aside and I truly begged for release. “Harder? Harder? Don’t stop. Don’t… noooo. You bastard. You tease. I’m leaving this room as soon as feeling returns to my body.”

Then he went in again, and I moaned and begged, and still he wouldn’t let me come.

I even tried to be sneaky about it, but he had fingers inside me, and could tell by my tension or my breathing, or possibly the sheen of sweat that appeared on my stomach whenever I got close to detonation.