My Lady Gambled (18 page)

Kit expected Brynmore to plant his other boot on her bottom to push and aid her tugging his first boot free, but it was his hands that clasped her buttocks. Warm strong hands that sent quivers rippling through the cheeks with instant heat and intimacy. Kit could not help squirming. Riding her bottom upward against Brynmore’s broad hands and then humping her slit over his boot top. It blinked in her mind that she should be embarrassed.

“That’s it, sugar pet, rub your hot muff on the leather. You like that don’t you, sweet. Christ, you’re hot.”

Brynmore’s hands pushed and pulled her buttocks, riding her slit over his boot as if she were mounted on a moving stallion. All thought of embarrassment vaporized as pleasure began its tightening and twisting rise in her sex. Then, Brynmore dug his fingers into the hills of her bottom and pulled outward, lifting her inner thighs open, splitting her slit so the buff leather suddenly rubbed over her clitoris.

“Bry,” Kit gasped. She was unable to get to the end of Brynmore’s name through her clenching moan as her hands clasped the toe of his boot, like she was grasping a saddle horn.

Bloody hell! Kit was one hot, passionate woman and he did not even have his boots off yet, Brynmore thought, when he could think! The creamy globes of Kit’s ass were sculpted as she bent over his boot, riding it astraddle, rising on her toes with the small of her back curling and her buttocks lifting to him.

The view was hot-blooded and exotic. Brynmore loved the spontane-ity and complete creativity of it. Finding anything more than a rowdy suck and fuck with a lass was rare. Besides, being completely in lust and filled with desire for Kit, he also felt the thrill of something he had always itched for, but never discovered until now. It was the rear view of Kit’s cunty-muff that had him entrapped. He could see the bottom lips of Kit’s cleft, dark tea-rose color, seeping with her distinct arousal. Brynmore suddenly fancied the thought that he could make Kit come. Now! In this position and the fact that she was that sensitive and capable of being orgasmic raced more excitement through him. Bloody hell, he’d asked for wild. The desire to see if he could coerce Kit’s climax urged him forward to smudge his finger into the opening of her cove.

“Aaah, Bry!” Kit cried, moaning the sure woman’s song of need to him as she wriggled against his finger with her ardor raining and coating the surface.

“Ye like that, sweet,” he uttered, through his own raised puffing, as he kept the motion of her body rocking, with her undulating help, while his other hand played carnal finger tag with her creamy oven-baked tunnel.

Suddenly, she pulled his boot off and stumbled forward. She turned as she lifted his long boot from between her thighs, while she looked at him with desire blazing in her irises. Brynmore had never really seen a woman stand before him naked and panting with the full flush of arousal. The lust inside him that he controlled, all but splintered his restraints.

“Now the other one,” Kit said, huffing.

“Bloody hell, forget the boot!” Brynmore exclaimed, leaping from the bed. He reached Kit swiftly, tossing the boot aside. Then he dipped, grasping Kit and lifting her up into his arms, quickly carrying her back to the bed. “I’ve other ideas!”

“Bry!” Kit gasped, clutching his neck, while her bare breasts warmed his chest.

Brynmore laid Kit down on the bed beneath him. “I want you to come for me, sugar pet. Again and again.”

Kit’s nails scored down his chest as he hunkered down over her legs. Then, Brynmore scooped them up under her knees lifting them toward her chest. He was not gentlemanly or sophisticated, but earthy and urgent. The demand inside him was that he taste mink cunty now! And, it was a mink, soft and velvet, spongy and wet. With Kit’s knees draped over his forearms Brynmore could see the lips of her cleft still pressed together with swollen promise, protruding slightly. Ripe mink cunty was exposed to him as his gaze never left it, while his mouth descended.

“Bry!” Kit squealed, as his tongue lapped saliva over the pressed together lips of her muff. Kit’s fingernails scraped his shoulders. “Ooh mm, Bry. Oh yes! Yes!”

Kit’s naked ass wiggled upward grinding her hot muff onto his tongue as the scent of her exuding arousal reached his nostrils like a high-pitched tang. That feminine ambrosia went straight to the head of his pounding prick. The material enclosing his woody-prick became irritating. He lapped the puffy lips of Kit’s fevered mink as he reached his free hand to the ties on his britches, fumbling, with hot feminine muff steaming in his mouth and Kit’s moans of eager pleasure pranced from her panting lips. Then, finally, his stiff woody was free, blood hammering into his balls as it stretched fully, veins engorged, ridges pulsing. He let it jut with his britches down around his knees as he brought his hand to the back of Kit’s thigh, pushing and raising her ass higher to expose her torrid muff more, as he licked it, then looked at it, then licked it again and again. He knew that he teased Kit’s senses by not burrowing inward as her moans drew higher-pitched with begging qualities.

Kit was enraptured with her mind skipping in and out of someplace that nearly felt like another world. A world she had never visited before. She had tried to act experienced and worldly before, but the truth was no man had ever laid his mouth to her sex. She had suckled a man’s shaft before, beneath the type of impervious demand that it was expected of all women. She had secretly enjoyed most of that, although the continued disparaging comments on her talent had hurt. 

Never in her wildest imagination had she thought that men put their mouths to women’s slits, kissing and licking them. Lord! It was bliss! And, at the same time, Brynmore licked over her sex lips like they were the best candy-treat he had ever tasted, he would stop for seconds, lift his head slightly and praise her and then praise her sex in his husky bass voice. The words were like the best aphrodisiac she had ever felt. “Hot. Pretty! Gorgeous. Wet! Beautiful.” All said in a malt-whisky slow Scottish burr, until the sounds of her pleasure became clearer and she was braver at giving voice to them.

It was as if Brynmore loved her sex-slit and he praised it over and over, while her body undulated and ground against his mouth for more. Her body knew there was more. Her sex knew and her clitoris cried for it as the rapture tightened and began pounding in her center. She had been so close to climax before when she had ridden Brynmore’s boot. Then she had gotten a little frightened at showing her vulnerability alone. Her experience was a man on top of her clutching and the climaxes coming close together but not out in the open as he watched.

So she had panicked a little and pulled away from Brynmore to regroup and gain courage. But then Brynmore toppled her onto the bed and did the most amazing thing. There was no regrouping from this—his hot mouth suckling and his tongue lapping. It was the most unbelievably erotic feeling she had ever encountered. To have a man, that she was so attracted too, touch her so intimately was beyond pleasure! Then, suddenly his tongue circled the entrance to her vagina and her thighs quaked uncontrollably.

“Lord! Lord!” Kit gasped, as a spike of sharp pleasure clinched deep inside her sex, while her fingers tangled frantically in the hair on the top of Brynmore’s head. “Oh, my lord,” she panted with her back arching.

Then Brynmore’s tongue slid into her vagina. “Aahh!” Kit cried out, feeling a whorl of pleasure so different from any she had felt before. Her clitoris throbbed as if it might burst, but there was a different, more powerful pang of feeling coming from the in and out thrust of Brynmore’s tongue. “B … B … B!” Kit could not say his name.

She could not breathe as he built speed, mating his tongue inside her, pulling it out, plunging it deep again. She squirmed her legs over his forearm trying to free them with the intense hunger to spread them wide. But Brynmore did not let her, he kept them tight as his tongue mated her so vigorously that her buttocks rocked. The deep, strange spiking of pleasure built in her core and suddenly it ruptured, bursting in her sheath. Explosive thrills vibrated through her sheath to the depths of her womb carrying her to the pinnacle of unconsciousness.

“Aaaaaah!” she screamed. The rapture twisted through her as she felt the final release. The liquid welling through the tremors of the repeating quakes, racking through her body. Deep into the ecstasy, her body arched into tense convulsions. She could feel the liquid coating her buttocks. Kit gasped a breath as if she had been drowning for long minutes and had finally reached the surface and air. A moment to breathe and still her climax rippled through her with Brynmore’s tongue edging it on.

Ejaculated cunty juices coated Brynmore’s face and chin. Blessed Mary! He had heard of this before. Once in a late night male drunken soiree, where a lusty old coot claimed that his late wife could squirt his face with her come juice, liken to a prick ejaculating. Brynmore had never had it happen before, although he had to admit that he had been testing Kit’s penetration climaxes as opposed to her clitty ones, by using his tongue to fuck her and never touching her clit.

Bloody hell! He wanted to shout and start the bagpipes! His woody-prick was pounding and his woman had just exploded on his mouth, marking him for life. He should want to thrust his engorged and throbbing prick deep inside her but he had more voracious cravings than that—to propel Kit into coming again.

Brynmore loosened Kit’s knees over his forearm, running his palms on either side down the creamy heated skin of her inner thighs, pressing her legs open wide. Just as the plump lips of her mink split open revealing the thrust of her clitty, he dropped his mouth over it like a ravenous babe after its ma’s tit.

“B … Bry!” Kit squealed and Brynmore held Kit’s writhing body down by his hands clamped to her inner thighs, stretching the tendons tight as he held her open to him, her thatch of yellow pubic hair tickling his nose. Staccato cries issued from Kit’s mouth in incoherent pitches of ardor as he sucked the swollen bud of her clitty, drawing hard and fast with repeated ferocity.

Brynmore moved the grip of his hands under Kit’s thighs and lifted her ass upward and her cunty deeper against him, as he growled and Kit screeched. He could feel it then, Kit’s returning climax. So quickly! He moved one of his hands so that he could plunge his finger deep into Kit’s clenching cove. When it came, Kit grounded her muff against him wildly and nearly pulled his ears off.

Brynmore twisted his head free of Kit’s clutching fingers and he rose above her. The demand to have his prick buried into Kit’s climaxing cove was beyond containing. The backs of Kit’s thighs fell to the tops of his thighs as he knelt between her legs, with his hand around the scorching heat of his shaft, as he guided the head to Kit’s entrance. Her breasts were heaving and her soft belly was still rippling with the effects of her climax as he thrust his prick head between her sopping cunty lips. The seed-soaked head of his prick, combined with Kit’s drenched sex made the way slick enough that his prick slid deep into her on the first thrust.

“Fuck.” His exclamation echoed in the room at the tight heat gripping his wooden prick from the tip to the base.

“Yes, Bry!” Kit mewled as she curled up to him, her arms around his neck embracing him and wrapping her legs up over the tops of his hips. Her head nudged under his chin with her lips sucking his chest as he pumped his hips several times with aggravated groans wrenched from his throat.

Bloody hell, he had not had but his own hand for many months. Now war raged inside him. One wanting to savor, the other wanting to fuck. Yet one thing was certain, he had an overwhelming desire to see Kit’s face as he thrust into her. He wanted to see his prick fucking her, in the storm of her blue eyes and he rolled backward taking Kit with him, until they sat face to face. His legs were bent under him as he was kneeling on his heels on the bed with Kit’s legs around his hips.

“Aahh, lord,” Kit moaned.

And—Brynmore agreed with Kit. That movement of his body, both of them together with his prick deep in her cove did wicked things to his body all the way down into his balls. Kit’s head came up as his hands circled her waist and he used that leverage to begin pushing and pulling. His hips helped the thrust and retreat of his prick into Kit’s searing cunty. Their eyes locked and he saw each plunge in the depths of Kit’s blue eyes. She helped by grasping his shoulders, tightening her legs around his hips to rock in motion with his thrusts. Their speed built, while her moans cascaded, he dropped his gaze during pumping intervals to look at his fiery-red thickness piercing the rosy-swollen daintiness of Kit’s sex.

His returning groan was deep, like the burn of his seed rising, as Kit’s eyes squinted and their thighs slapped. “That’s it, sweet,” he groaned. “That’s it!”

“Bry, ooh!” Kit panted, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Brynmore pulled Kit harder to him with each plunge, making her breath pant out sharply as their slick skin made smacking sounds against each other. “Ah hh yes! That’s so good, Kit sweet. Aahh, Christ!”

“Bry! Oh, Bry! Ooh!”

Brynmore dug his toes into the mattress as his lips dropped over Kit’s mouth. “Kiss me, Kit. Give me your tongue. Deep!”

“Bry! Mmm!”

Kit’s tongue surged into Brynmore’s mouth. He took it with hard suction as they ground and humped together even more wildly. Kit’s whimpers were shrill and he realized that she was going to climax again for him. He shifted his hands to push her belly forward and her clitty more onto the base of his cock with each hard fuck that he took. Kit’s nails scratched his sweaty back as she wormed on his prick and he bellowed a groan calling the nearness of his ejaculation. He felt it, Kit’s cunty clenching his prick.

“Aah! Fuck! Yes!” He bellowed as his seed pumped free and he threw his head back, repeatedly surging forward, deep as possible, fucking Kit with each expansion of pleasure.

Sometime later, it seemed an eternity, or a minute, Kit slumped over his chest with their hot sweat-soaked skin gliding together, her cheek resting against his shoulder. Her breasts labored against his equally deep breathing chest as they gulped air to catch their breath. His prick, still incredibly semi-hard, was embedded in her heat. Brynmore tangled his fingers into the damp strands of Kit’s short wavy hair. Then he tugged lightly, arching her head backward as he looked down on her.