Spread (A Club Deep Story)By: Penny Wylder
He’s right. I do feel it. Like something big is building under my skin. I know that if I let him fuck me I won’t ever be the same. But is that really a bad thing? Even if it’s just one night, I can’t ever see regretting this. And so I reach out to him, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and pulling his mouth to mine. Opening my mouth, I let his tongue dance with mine, and I groan. This is sheer possession. I’m going to let him take me, damn the consequences.
He lifts my top over my head in one fluid movement, exposing my breasts to the air, and then his hands are on them, squeezing them, thumbs rolling over my nipples. “I’ve been dying to suck on these all night,” he says. “Do you know what it does to a man, seeing nipples like these through a shirt like that?” He squeezes down on them, and I moan, words completely gone. “Knowing that they’re hard because of me, just begging for my tongue.”
He leans down, running his tongue across the top of my breast, leaving a streak of hot fire. His voice is low and warm. “And while I’m sucking on your tits, you’re going to imagine that I’m sucking on your clit, and by the time my head is between your legs you’re going to be begging for me to make you come.”
I’m going to protest, tell him that I’m not the kind of woman who begs for anything, but his mouth closes over my right nipple and the words disappear in my mouth. Nothing but a whimper comes out as his tongue grazes across the taught peak, sending streaks of molten pleasure into my body and down into my core. Around and around he strokes, and damn it, I do what he told me to. I imagine that his head is between my legs and that his tongue is on my clit. He grazes my skin with his teeth and I moan, my voice loud in the quiet hallway. He knows exactly what to do with his mouth to have me arching into him, breath coming in shuddery gasps.
Julian moves his mouth to my other breast, and my knees go weak. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life, and the image of him licking into my pussy is only making it worse. My fingers weave themselves into his hair, holding his mouth against my skin. God, I never want him to stop his touching, and that’s so unlike me.
“I don’t—” I say, struggling to form words around the way he swirls his tongue around the tip of my nipple. “I don’t ever do this.”
He doesn’t respond, instead sucking more of my breast until his mouth is full of it. I watch the way his jaw moves as he works me, and the sight of that is so hot I nearly collapse. But I need him to know that this isn’t a normal thing. “I never do this.”
“Do what?” he says, releasing me and smirking.
“This,” I say. “With strangers. I don’t go to clubs and just have sex.”
His hands pop the buttons on my pants, sliding them down my hips and off my feet. My panties follow, and the look in his eyes as he sees me naked in front of him is…feral. Raw. It sends a shudder of anticipation through me. There’s something about seeing him on his knees in front of me, somehow still in control, that is so unbelievably hot. When he looks up at me with that devastating smile, those blue eyes freeze me in place. “Thank goodness you’ve come to your senses.”
And then his hands are on my thighs and his mouth is between my legs and oh god yes. He pushes my legs wider, until there’s nothing holding me up but the wall and his mouth licking into me, that devastating tongue running up and down my pussy. I never know where he’s going to go next—a stroke of his tongue on my clit, a brush of his teeth on my outer lips, a press of his mouth on my mound.
My orgasm rises quickly, hot and insistent, pulsing in time with his tongue, pushing bursts of pleasure through my nerves. I brace myself against his shoulders, muscles shaking, unable to fight that sweet pleasure flowing through me. And then suddenly, his mouth is gone, and I open my eyes to see Julian looking up at me, a wicked smirk on his face. His mouth is still so close, and I can feel his breath on me, making me squirm, trying to make him touch me again. It only makes his smirk deepen, his hands like iron on my thighs, keeping us so close, barely separated.
“Beg me,” he says.