"If you read the last few pages of that novel I'm reading, then who did it?"
"I wouldn't want to spoil it for you, pet. My lips are sealed."
"Then, how can I kiss you, sir?"
"Put your book down, spread your thighs and let me do the honours."
"If I put my book down then I will never know."
"Very well continue reading. I don't need your full attention."
She sat back on the couch, letting the book hang over the side in an idle hand, as she lent back to stare up at the wooden rafters, all the while spreading her body, just as he had demanded. She tried to separate herself from the unreality of him crouching down before her for a change and to consider the characters in her book. Who could have done it?
That separation proved less easy than she had hoped, for, as he pulled her skirts up, she recalled that there was nothing new about that. The kisses he applied to her splayed thighs brought the memories back and made her want to react to him. Such memories, recalled in the twinkling of an eye, but still less easy than the separation of her thighs, once he had slit her panties down one side with a sharper than usual paper knife and brusquely pulled them out from underneath her.
She would have exclaimed at that point, but decided that he would savour her silence more as he began to toy with her cleft. She was right. The rubbing of his fingers up and down the groove, in a repetitive, almost hypnotic motion brought out such slickness from her slit that it even surprised her. It was most satisfactory to be able to lean back and shape her mouth into the requisite 'O' so enamoured of aficionados of fellatio the world over, and to be able to utter a muted: "Oh my!"
He was ready for her reaction, looking up at her flushed face and gazing admiringly over her heaving bosom, seeking the arch remark to make her face flicker into a smile for his pleasure.
"My finger didn't penetrate that deeply already did it?" He queried, finding just the remark that he required and adding, as a neat but wicked afterthought: "Forgive it for being so impetuous!"
"You certainly know how to wake a girl up of a morning!" She mewled happily forgiving him instantaneously.
"It is time you were exercised, girl."
"I couldn't agree more, sir."
"A few guttural moans would contradict that last statement, girl, but could do you and my libido the world of good."
"Do I really need to flatter your libido, sir?"
"Is that task to bothersome for you?"
"No sir, but I do so wish to focus my attention on the very clever things you are doing with my cunt."
"Whose cunt?"
"Don't growl at me, sir. You make me think of a bear out of sorts having relinquished too many honey pots when you do that."
"Are you planning on relinquishing your couch and positioning yourself over my lap, so soon slut?" he smiled meaningfully, looking up from between her splayed thighs after three long, leisurely licks from anus to pubis.
"You are hardly discouraging your slut, sir."
"Would it so discourage her to be turned over to have at her from her favourite orientation, allowing her the opportunity to continue with her latest crime novel, while his tongue delved into her sex with something akin to criminal intent?"
"I am completely yours, master criminal that are, sir."
"You just want me for my tool box."
"I want you for the craft with which you jemmy me open, sir. Oooooooh! That was quite lovely sir. I feel quite like a lollipop with your tongue embedded in me like that."
"You can wait for the lollipop of my choice, girl."
"I can't so either, Mr Bear."
"You can't wait for a birching either, it seems."
"If you wish to birch me sir, then why should your cunt object?"
"My goodness: property with a sense of the rightness of things. Sometimes I feel as if I have managed to train you rather well, pet."
"That you have, but would you also mind favouring me a little?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"A little less talk and a little more lick if you please, sir."
"I wouldn't want you to be discomfited in any way," he responded wryly, looking at the tightness of her anal pucker and speculating on the last time it was pleasured, as he let his fingers play with the creases of her sex. He soothed away the anxieties of the past few days and rendered the traumas of her week, innocuous memories that might as well not have existed. However the pressing of his hand to her lower back did cause her to abandon any thoughts of her book and make her spread herself even more abundantly than before for his pleasure.
"I love being yours, sir."
"How should I take thee, let me count the ways?" He recited and began to toy with her, sliding two fingers into her soaked interior and swivelling them around to bring out the lightest of sighs.
"Why don't you cunt the ways instead, sir?" She suggested as with the softest of reactions, as she squeezed herself happily around his penetrating fingers. The fact that this tightening held his fingers to her was no vexation, since his thumb was well placed to stroke between her buttocks, making her keen softly, like the cat so close to getting the cream that she can practically taste it. She knew that he would be asking her to lick her juices from his fingers, before the day was very much older and before he bared his sex and plunged it full to the hilt to knock the breath out of her body in the most exuberant way that she could have thought possible.
"The question is," he determined, "will she be permitted to taste him before he presses his manhood to her wet cavern or will she just have to be content with sloppy seconds, once he had come abundantly into her vagina and needed a luxuriant tongue bath to complete his morning ablutions?"
