Page 144 of You've Got Hate Mail

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I slide my hand under her shorts too, and my dick is going to kill me.

It’s going to over-dick and murder me from the inside, because he and I—we can’t handle the fact that she’s not wearing underwear.

All I find inside her shorts are soaked curls and slick skin.

“Oh god, yes,” she pants as I slide a finger in all of her glorious wetness, looking for?—

“There,” she gasps, thrusting her hips against my hand as I locate her clit.

“There? You sure?”

“M-more.”

More.

Good plan.

More.

All the more.

I shimmy down until I’m tugging her shorts off, showing off that gorgeous pussy with the pink skin teasing me from between her legs, and then?—

God, she’s delicious.

“Oh my god, yesssss,” she moans as I lick her.

I’m rusty.

Been a while.

But I take my cues from her body, the writhing and the moans and the way her legs fall open for me, the way she grips my hair and holds me between her thighs while I eat her pussy like it’s dessert.

Because it is.

She’s my dessert.

Her legs tremble, and her moans get higher while I devour her, until she’s suddenly clamping her thighs around my ears.

“I’m coming,” she gasps. “Oh my god, Heath,I’m coming.”

I want to grip my own cock and come with her. I’m leaking precum in my pants and aching so badly for my own release.

But bringing her here, taking her this high—this is its own heady reward.

Giving back to a woman who’s done things for my life that I still don’t fully understand, but that I don’t want to live without.

Her thighs release my head and fall open again.

I trace the hollow at the top of her thigh. “NowI’m looking at your vagina,” I murmur.

She laughs lightly. “Take as much time as you want.”

I glance up at her. “Yeah?”

Her bare breasts rise and fall as she sucks in oxygen, arms splayed to the sides. “I trust you. And thank you.”

There it is again.

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