I sniffed deeply behind her ear and then made a friendly-horsey snort. She squirmed. “Mmm.” The horsey thing seemed to work well. I tried lipping the edge of her ear.
She whispered, “I’m feeling pretty cocky—oo!—since I fixed your tattoo.” She giggled and shivered all down her body.
“Yuhm?” How about a little bite on the earlobe?
She gasped. “Baz, pay attention.”
I took her chin in my fingers and turned her face toward mine. “I thought you’d be tired after a day like this.”
“So you’re all over me like white on brown rice?”
I snatched a kiss. I could swear her tongue gave mine a zap.
She gave me a solemn look. “This is important. I want to try something.”
“Music to my ears.”
She smacked me upside the head, and I grinned at her. Then she grabbed my dick. Suddenly every bone in my body stiffened and a shiver ran up my side into my ear and my skin prickled and my brain faded and I’d probably just jizzed again.
Looking in her eyes, I saw the take-no-shit goddessness that kept her family in line and made the press play nice most of the time and—she squeezed—I groaned with pleasure—and was probably going to run my life for the foreseeable.
Insight number forty-two. I love being pussy-whipped.
“I thought you liked letting go of control,” I said, trying not to whimper.
“Sometimes.” She looked sneaky, as if she had a plan and wasn’t gonna tell me.
Fine. She wanted to play control games.
I slid my hand into the small of her back and pulled her to me, lifting her off the fur coverlet so she’d feel the stretch—yep, I got the purr—and holding the back of her neck so she would feel supported. Then I let her head rock back. Her eyes closed and she sighed.
I bundled the fur coverlet up under the small of her back—not high enough—grabbed my pillow, and my other pillow, and stuffed them under her, until she lay wide open, her bellybutton winking at the ceiling, her arms spread out welcoming on either side.
I was ready for protests, but I didn’t get any.
This next position could have been a pain without levitation on my side.
I floated over her, stroking her from throat to ankles, wrists to crotch, making her aware of her meridians, where the channels of energy flowed in her body. I pushed her legs apart. I lifted her at the small of her back again and rearranged the pillows, then pressed her back down. Little noises told me she liked that.
Draped over the coverlet and pillows, she made an arch of glorious female flesh on the bed. I wanted to eat her up.
Carefully I one-eightied in the air over her. Now I faced her hot, wet, fragrant ladyparts, and she faced me at my most vulnerable. The idea was to keep her stretched out, feeling exposed, yet keep her warm, feeling safe.
But I was exposed like this, too.
She touched with her hand. I shuddered.
Take control.
I sank down over her, covering her furnace-hot skin with mine. I put my hands on her knees and parted her thighs a little more. She arched. I could feel her face on my dick and balls now, her lips so close. My nerves stuck a foot out of my body. What would she do? I dipped my head into her scented wetness and began licking.
Her hands came up and slapped onto my butt, grabbing.
Ah. Now I was in control.
I floated my hips off her. She grabbed my butt harder.
With care, I slipped my dick into her open mouth.
The idea wasn’t to fuck her face, but to make her feel my strength, make her think, holy crap, his dick is big, and get her to surrender to all the sensations I was piling on her.
I hadn’t bargained for natural talent.
She wrapped her lips around my dick like a pro.
My brain sailed off on a wave of excitement. She was sucking away my self-control. I took a few dizzy, girl-flavored breaths and pulled it together enough to remember my job.
After that things got a little hazy. I remember her sucking and licking and even, yikes, biting once in a while, ever so gently. I remember growling her out with every trick I knew. She drew my dick down into her throat, pulling me into her by wrapping her arms around my butt and hugging, and the world tilted, and she was hot and tight and apparently she didn’t need to breathe. I gave up and let her milk me helpless.
And right away my strength returned, holy shit.
Now I could focus on pulling her legs wider apart while I licked, thumbing her, making her stretch and scream against my dick, that felt weird, weird but good. I reached all the way under her butt and finger-fucked her ass with one finger while I thumbed her at the same time, and I made my tongue longer, thicker, harder, until I could really give it to her all the way to the back wall, bang, bang, bang, bang! She liked that. She sucked me deep into her throat and squeezed like a milkmaid until I was bucking crazily, unable to pull out, spending and spending, hopefully not into her lungs.
Something bumped the small of my back, then clonked the back of my head.
I lifted my face and tried to retract my tongue. “Thit!”
She just kept sucking.
I relaxed and got back to work. Soon we were bucking against each other again.
Clonk! on the back of my head again, harder. This time, I saw stars.
I pulled away completely and turned to look behind me. “What the fuck?”
We weren’t in my bedroom anymore.
My dick was cold suddenly. No Yoni lips to keep me warm.
“Baz?”
I coughed and spat out a hair. “Apparently, we floated out of the bedroom.”
I didn’t let go of her. No point letting her look down and scaring her.
Instead, I looked down—and scared myself.
We had floated down the hall and through the overseer’s door that let out onto the main factory floor, and now we were floating over the basketball court and grilling area.
The thing that had clonked the back of my head was a support beam for the ceiling.
Which was thirty-two feet off the floor.
She shifted under me. I looked at her. She peered up at me. “Did I do it?”
“Uh, do what?”
“Are we flying?”
“Yes,” I squeaked. “We are flying.”
“I want to see!”
With that she grappled my butt and did something with her waist and hips and whoops! We reversed in the air, with her on top, and me under her, clinging for dear life, with her hot wet pussy in my face.
She let loose a yippee. “I’m flying! Look, Baz, I’m flying! Yeee-ow!”
She wriggled in my arms, sending me panicking, and then we were swooping around the big empty space, making the walls echo with her triumphant yodels and my screams.
We swooped to a sudden halt in mid-air. “I just remembered,” she said, sounding stricken.
“Shouldn’t you be concentrating on staying up here?”
“I promised to bless the Lair!”
“Can we do that from the ground?”
“No! This is way more fun!”
And off we went again.
I found it helped to shut my eyes.
The air filled with the scent of roses.
A hundred years later she got tired of that and set us down on the cold plywood basketball deck.
I scrambled to my feet. I noticed now that the basketball deck was sprinkled all over with red rose petals.
Yoni sat on the floor, her knees propped up like a bimbo on a tractor-trailer mud flap, laughing at me.
I wiped my face with my dreads. “Now, was that nice?”
“Yes. It was glorious! I loved it.” She stopped laughing, but I could see she couldn’t really keep a straight face. “I’m sorry. Did I scare you?”
“Shit, yes.”
“I thought you could fly already. That time at the hotel yesterday.”
“Yeah, when I decide to fly. When I know it’s me doing it. Without kibbitzers.”
Her grin broke out again. “I think we’re gonna have some fun figuring out who’s in control.”
I looked her in the eye. I was still panting, and I needed to pee like a racehorse. I couldn’t help grinning either. “I think we’ll have to take turns.”