I frantically planted kisses on his neck, shoulder, neck, face, and finally ending at his lips.
The second our lips touched, it was wildfire all over again. The heat, the tingling, the intoxicating smell—there was no hesitation like most first kisses. There was no testing out the water, or figuring out how our lips should fit; should I tilt my face to the right or to the left? There was no nose bumping. Our lips fit as if we’d kissed a million times. Both of us tilted our heads automatically to our lefts.
But the intensity was off the charts for first kisses. Evon’s skillful tongue took over in no time to imitate the dance of lovemaking. His burning tongue advanced, retreated, and advanced, over and over and over again, with occasional twirls. I felt the tightening in my lower belly signaling the arrival of an orgasm. No, not now!
Still kissing, I frantically yanked off my dress and underwear. Evon was still sitting with his underwear and jeans around his thighs. Without any preliminaries, I straddled him and sunk down onto his huge, engorged cock in one fluid motion. He bit my lower lip hard at the exact same moment the tip of his searing penis slammed against my cervix. I tasted blood. I screamed into his mouth while my body shattered into the most shocking orgasm.
I came and came and came. My inner muscles spasmed without control around his gigantic, iron-hard, and poker-hot cock, my entire body convulsing in a frenzied seizure. After an eternity, it finally came to a slow stop with occasional aftershocks. My body was an over-cooked noodle; I couldn’t even hold my head up. I slumped into Evon’s chest with my head falling into the crook of his neck.
I wasn’t sure how long I just laid there. I couldn’t open my eyes; I was so wasted. I felt Evon put his hands on my shoulders and slowly laid me back on the backseat. I stretched out my tired body, extending my arms toward the ceiling of the car. Then Evon pulled my legs apart. After several seconds of silence, I opened my eyes hesitantly to see what was going on. He was staring intently at the juncture of my thighs. I had always been self-conscious about how I looked down there. I tried to bring my legs together, but Evon was strong, keeping my legs apart easily while he studied me.
“I always wanted to see what an American pussy looks like,” he mumbled.
“Don’t all pussies look alike?”
“No, they don’t all look alike. Yours is different.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer. Slowly, he leaned forward to give me a long, hard, scolding lick right between my legs. Holy shit!
From Thousand-Year-Old Dream: The One, available everywhere books are sold.
Rebecca Eyre 