Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
But I want to leave her with something to remember, something to play with. So I beckon for her to come closer.
And she wobbles toward me, still as unsteady as a newborn colt from her orgasm.
“Mr. Phillips?” she sighs breathily. I take one of her hands in each of mine and put those little fingers gently on my shoulders for balance. It seems to help. Evie stands a little steadier, and that’s good because I’m about to bring her in for another wild ride.
Slowly, oh so slowly, I reach two fingers down to lightly tease her pussy lips. I massage her puffy labia, dipping slightly between the glossy folds to find her swollen flesh hot and steamy. She writhes and moans, tossing her head back with her eyes closed.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I murmur. “Let me see.”
And with two fingers, I pull her pussy lips back to gaze at her snatch, that beautiful interior channel on display for me. The brunette is bright pink on the insides, sopping wet and glistening. My mouth waters at the sight of her hole dripping with juices and her clit standing straight up, just begging for a kiss.
So I oblige. I dip my head and press a kiss to her clit, lightly brushing my lips over that sensitive nub, the bundle of nerves so sensitive and tasty. Immediately, Evie screams, throwing her head back as her legs turn to jelly, causing her to practically collapse. Fortunately, I catch her before she falls. I bring the brunette up against my big chest and cradle her in my arms before placing her on my desk and helping her stretch out and get comfortable.
“Let’s get rid of these,” I grind out. With one big sweep of my arm, a stack of papers is pushed to the floor. Fuck it. There are more important things than grading right now.
Such as the girl writhing and sighing, nude and spread out on my desk. She’s playing with her nips as one hand slides down to rub her clit.
“No, baby girl,” I reprimand, pulling her small hand away, “that’s for me.”
Pulling her hips to the edge of the desk so that her butt is perched right on the ledge, I spread her legs, holding those meaty thighs apart so that her kitty is wet and on full display. Without waiting a moment more, I dive in. I lap that beautiful cunt, tasting her juice on my lips, and drink her ambrosia, tracing every crevice and every curve with my tongue. And as I do so, Evie creams and gushes even more, crying out my name.
“Stone, Stone!” she gasps. “More!”
And I’m only too happy to oblige. I pull her plush pussy lips apart with my fingers and angle my head for a deeper dive, pushing my tongue deep into her snatch, up that tight channel. And that’s when I feel it. My tongue flicks against a rubbery barrier in that pretty pussy, unbroken and whole … and completely unexpected.
Pulling back immediately, I raise my head and shoot her a stunned look.
“Really?” I rasp. “Really?”
Evie seems to know exactly what has happened. Her knees slam shut and her face colors, the blush spreading enticingly over those beautiful breasts. Her chin quivers as she whispers, “Mr. Phillips, I didn’t know … I didn’t know you could lick my hymen.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Evie
My secret is out. My embarrassing, humiliating secret has been discovered in the most embarrassing, humiliating way possible. Because how many eighteen-year-old virgins still exist? I’m probably the only one alive – the only girl with her cherry still intact.
I just never found the right guy; I’ve never found a man I want to be with. Until last year, hardly any guys had even noticed me, I was so boy-like and flat. And the few dates that I had gone on were completely uninteresting. In fact, they had kind of turned me off of the male sex. One guy had been like a slavering dog. His kiss had drenched me in saliva, and I’d been grossed out, it was so smelly and disgusting.
And another guy had had a really high-pitched voice, like an Oompa Loompa who’d inhaled helium for fun. I don’t mean to be crazy picky, but dating someone who reminds me of a character from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory just isn’t my thing. It had crossed my mind that maybe he had some kind of hormonal disorder that I’d never heard of, but as sorry as I felt for the boy, I couldn’t bring myself to continue dating him.
So I’d stuck with my naughty books instead, staying up nights to read on my Kindle, a hand between my legs. Except that the fantasies had left me with an unfortunate problem – my virginity – which Mr. Phillips has just discovered.
“I-I’m so sorry,” I whisper, unable to meet his gaze. “I thought that if I didn’t say anything, you’d ….” I can’t even finish the sentence, I’m so miserable.