|
|
|
|
|
|
was and bit back the rest of her cries, burying her mouth in her lover's hair until she came to rest. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
That was only for a moment, however. Peter was heaving against her, his head thrown back, his mouth open, sucking air. Linda began to move in time with his thrusts, bending her head to kiss his throat and stretching a hand behind her to scratch gently at his testicles. She could feel the muscles working in his neck and clamped her mouth on his just in time to muffle a howl of release. She rode him a moment more, until his hand clamped her tight against him and he pulled his lips free. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Stop. There's no more in me." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Linda quieted, aware now that they were lying the right way on the bed. Peter must have turned them around somehow. He was a lot stronger than he looked. She smiled into his shoulder, in no hurry to separate their bodies, enjoying the pleasant contrast of the rather chilly night air on her back and the warmth of Peter under her. She only realized that Peter was not as quietly content as she when he cleared his throat awkwardly. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Before he could make some stupid conventional remark that would embarrass them both, Linda said, "Ah! Just like Maxwell House Coffee." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
There was a brief, awed silence; then Peter began to guffaw. Somehow, they got untangled |
|
|
|
|
|