Never Been Witched (15 page)

He growled and rolled them together so he ended on top.

Destiny punched the air. “Wahoo, you figured it out by yourself.”

“Call it desperation.”

“Call it instinct. We could start now and put slot A into slot B,” she said, “or we could take it slow and easy and make this one swell of a day.”

“I’m an ex-priest. Surely I have a
hell
of a good time coming to me.”

“Yeah, that kind of good time, with you coming your brains out.”

“Guess
hell
’s a negative word?”

“Not in this context, it isn’t. Get up. Stand. There you go.” His confusion charmed her, though he did as told. “Don’t look so anxious,” she said. “I’m not taking away your toys. I’m playing the leader, so follow where I lead.”

“I always thought you were mysterious,” he said. “And it turns out that you’re deep, and playful, and sexy as sin. Turns out, I
like
sin.”

She knelt at his feet and ran her hands up his jeans and along the outside of his legs, around to his fine man butt. Then she started from the beginning again and ran her hands slowly along his inseam. He groaned when she stroked the power beneath his zipper. “You’ve been practicing going the distance, according to the rules in your books, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s a whole new ball game when you’re not playing sexual solitaire.”

“Relax. You’re all tense. And try to hang on. Good wordplay, by the way, because I’ll be playing with your balls.” She unbuttoned his jeans slower than a snail going uphill, just to torture him and make it last. She slid his jeans down his legs until they puddled at his feet.

She pulled off his shoes, then his jeans, which gave her clear access to the hairy, muscular legs beneath her palms. “Nice,” she said. “Not at all like a yeti’s.”

“What?”

“Tell you later.” She kissed her way up his legs, feeling him become more tense by the kiss.

“You’re killing me here, Cartwright.”

She peeked up at him. “It’s called foreplay, you soon-to-be-ex-virgin. Get into the spirit. This is just the beginning. You get to torture
me
next.”

“Alleluia!”

“That certainly upped your, er, spirit. Now close your eyes and enjoy.” She kissed her way from his knee to his poor, confined cock pulsing beneath his boxers to be set free.

She kissed him through the fabric, and he bucked so hard, he knocked her on her ass. “Hey! Are you paying me back for your concussion?”

His grin about stopped her heart. “I’m new at this. That was a surprise. I liked it!” He growled. “Do it again.”

“Okay,” she said, “but be prepared. Your pecker is mine to do with as I please.”

“I’ve died and gone to the promised land.”

“Not yet.”

Chapter Twenty-one

AGAIN, she kissed him through his boxers, and Morgan tried not to buck as hard. He loved her attention, but he wanted her as insane as him. When she slipped her hands into the back waistband of his shorts—raw pleasure shivering him to his marrow—and cupped his bare bottom with her silky palms, he couldn’t stand being passive another minute.

He opened his eyes to watch and double his pleasure. Having the subject of all his fantasies pleasuring him was one thing. Watching her about made him come.

He combed his hand through her hair and cupped her head while she slid his boxers down his legs, his boss stone cock staring her in the face.

She looked up at him and winked. “Congratulations to me. Congratulations to me,” she sang to the tune of “Happy Birthday,” while she admired his pecker. “Hel-
lo
, Big Boy.”

“You’re not disappointed?” he asked like an insecure fool.

“Disappointed, Stud?” she said with a wink. “I’m so impressed, I’m salivating everywhere.”

His sex danced in excitement.

She licked his happy dancer, and he tried to control his reaction, while shivers of elation thrummed through him. If he died tonight, he’d die happy and satisfied, because all his dreams would have come true.

She closed her hand around him, and he shouted with shock and utter pleasure. She squeezed, and he blew out his breath. She moved her hand along his length, and he stopped her. “I don’t think I can go the distance.”

She sat back on her heels. “This
is
your first flight,” she said, as if giving him permission to blow it before they began. “If you don’t count our recent practice runs.”

“Thank you for understanding. I’m a rookie, and you’re a pro.”

“I am
not
a pro!”

“I didn’t mean a hooker.” Morgan’s ears caught fire; that’s how embarrassed he was.

“Morgan Jarvis, I’ll have you know that I only have sex with men I care about. You’re my fourth . . . relationship.”

“This is a relationship?” He could feel his cock shrinking. Going into hiding, as it were.

“Of course, it is. We’re friends, aren’t we? We’ve been attracted from the first, haven’t we?”

Morgan swallowed. “Have we?”

“Sure, or we wouldn’t have cared enough to watch, follow, bait, research, attract, and generally annoy the wandering widdershins out of each other. We would simply have walked away.”

“But we couldn’t walk,” he said. “What do you mean, research?”

“You asked my sisters about me, and I asked your friends about you. It’s called research.”

“Questions. Right,” he said. “We’re in a relationship.” Which made him feel better about this whole sex thing. “I like the way you’re bringing the big guy back to life—brother do I—but I’d like to get to first base for the first time in my life without a precipitous foul out, if you know what I mean.”

“Then let’s go for the homer. Once you’ve hit your first, it’ll get easier to go the distance. Nothing to do but dispense with the clothes.”

To Morgan’s shock, she pulled her Orgasm Donor shirt over her head, and slipped her jeans down her legs. The panties she still wore were the same purple as her bra and made of lace so he could see her blond nest quite well beneath them.

Turned out, he had a stronger heart than he thought.

“Here,” she said, pushing her breasts his way. “I’m betting you need some bra unhooking practice.”

He tried. He honestly did. But those beautiful breasts—the very things he wanted to get at—were in his way. “Are you mocking me with those twinkling eyes?”

“Of course not, but you’ll lose your badge for sure if you can’t do this. Every Eagle Scout knows how to unhook a bra. Do what you do best. Get logical, Professor.”

“Okay, not sex. Logic.” Morgan stopped thinking with his hyperactive cock. Logic said to fold the bra at the point of connection and pull both halves in opposite directions.

“Wahoo!” Destiny cheered and jumped, like a cheer-leader on speed, so that no matter how often he grabbed for them, he couldn’t get those puppies into his hands where he wanted them. As if to prove him right, she spread her legs and raised her arms as if she were about to do a real witch cheer—her, um, pom-poms, jiggling before his glazed eyes.

 

Morgan thought he might short circuit from sensual overload. Still wearing only her purple lace panties, she ended ass up, legs spread wide, and bent over double.

Then she bounced up and turned to face him. His knees nearly buckled at the sight of her full breasts—had they inflated when she bent over like that? Oxygen, please. Her taut nipples with their wide russet aureolas made him so hungry, he wiped his mouth in the event of drool before he finally grabbed those puppies, two hands full. “Mine,” he said.

She slid her panties down, barely, first one side, then the other, inch by inch, walking them down her legs so slowly as to make his cock jump to attention. Then this dynamite woman stood before him. Destiny. His for the taking. Dreams did come true.

She lay on the bed and opened her arms. “Climb on.”

“A virgin could have a coronary from such an invitation.”

Mounting his favorite woman meant mounting a rebellion of the first order against the mistakes of his past.

Destiny took him in hand, slid him into her tight, slick center, and pulsed all around him, and Morgan understood that a man could travel beyond the promised land during such an experience.

“The eagle has landed,” Destiny said, raising her hips to pull him deeper.

Pleasure roared in his ears. Satisfaction, or the ultimate promise of it. A silk sheath, pulsing around him. “This is like nothing, nothing I’ve ever—”

“Don’t move,” she warned, barely stopping him in time. “This stage is not for the faint of heart, First-Timer. Get used to the feel of me gloving you before you try anything fancy.”

“But I’m aching to move, Kismet, or I’ll die, I tell you.”

“If you wanna last more than one surge, take a couple of deep breaths. Cup my breasts, kiss me.”

He surged without meaning to. “Your words made me do that, and I just realized that I got foreplay, and you didn’t.” He’d die if this ended in a rush. “I’m afraid this’ll happen without you.”

“Hey, you think this is our only shot? We have the rest of two weeks. You are so screwed.”

Screwed and unglued. No words ever sounded kinkier. “And, Kismet, you’re the one who’s screwed. Once I get the hang of this, watch out.” He kissed one of her nipples as if it were sacred, with reverence and a great deal of emotional and physical investment. He closed his mouth over the nubbin, suckled, gave it a tug, and pride filled him when Destiny moved her body beneath his, along his length, making them both shudder in hot expectation.

“You liked that?” she asked.

“Very much. Do you know how nervous I am? I suppose a man shouldn’t admit that.”

“Are you kidding? I hate conceited jerks who think they’re God’s gift to women.” She cupped his face and raised her hips. “Your honesty is a turn-on.”

“Seriously?”

“You can’t tell?”

“How would I? I have no basis for comparison.”

“You have a lot to learn. I’m so glad that I get to teach you. Take a walk on the wild side, and let’s take that boner out for a spin.” Destiny wrapped her legs around him, and that’s all it took for him to surge and retreat—again and again—rush after rush of unbearable sensation. He watched Destiny’s eyes glaze over while she watched him, and he wondered if his expression said as much about his arousal and sexual excitement as hers did.

A huge swelling of pride filled him. He was finally having sex with Destiny. And she liked it as much as he did!

He went for her other breast and made love to her with his mouth while her hips rose in welcome, and the muscles deep in her womb pulled and squeezed him as if she were milking him.

He was only a man. How strong could he be?

A man, a first-timer, could only take so much. Worried that he couldn’t satisfy her, Morgan tried to take it slow, make it last, and as his reward, her hips took over, and she convulsed around him. Excited, he concentrated on lasting, and she had two more orgasms in quick succession, which gave him superhuman confidence.

By the saints, he wanted to see how many he could give her before holding back killed him.

Chapter Twenty-two

ONE hundred and thirty one; that’s how many orgasms Destiny had . . . or so it seemed. If he could pat himself on the back without breaking stride, Morgan would try, but he’d settle for his button-busting pride.

He knew how to make it last for her, and he tried every book trick he remembered, aiming for her pleasure, not his own, though, in doing so, he experienced a pleasure beyond the physical. Besides, he’d get the final ride. Unless . . . “Please don’t pass out on me.”

Instead, she climaxed again. “I can’t believe how amazingly,
long
, you’ve lasted.”

“Damn, and I thought you were going to say you couldn’t believe how amazingly long the big guy is.”

“Oh,
he
is, but as a thirty-year-old virgin, you should have gotten your jollies in the first ten seconds.”

“I’m getting a kick out of playing you. I may be as big as Bigfoot, but you’re a goddess. I think you could kill your lovers with your voracity.” He didn’t like thinking about her having other lovers.

“I know. My sisters have always been jealous. I won the orgasmathon when we were kids. Storm says I’m just an easy lay.”

“Whoa. What’s an orgasmathon?”

“We counted our orgasms and compared notes later. Why?”

“Because I got a concurrent triathlon type picture in my head that could keep me going for a decade.”

“Hey! We were just normal horny teenage girls. We didn’t get kinky until we got older and had dates.”

“What kind of kinky?”

“Never mind. Am I too greedy?”

“No comparison, but you’re turning me on like crazy. You’re the best lover I’ve ever had.”

She laughed and came at the same time. “I’m the only lover you’ve ever had.”

He leaned back and found the smooth skin of her ass with both his hands, which gave him a new way to move in her, and gave her a sea swell of an orgasm. She sat up to face him and increase the friction.

Later, she lay back down and placed her ankles on his shoulders so he could pump deeper and harder, and she cried his name in an extended orgasm that shocked her and made him clench and hold to his . . . dignity.

“This should be more for you than me,” she said. “If I do pass out, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Every rookie should have such a sex goddess as his coach, because I don’t feel like a first-timer. I feel like Morgan the Magnificent. Bigger than life. A superhero in the sack.”