Selena Kitt - Grace

Clay groaned when she parted her swollen lips using his fingers, her hands guiding him.

“See… soft, warm, gooey…” She grinned. “But I have to tell you about the secret spot. When you finally get to that spot, it’s less like savoring that brownie and more like licking a Tootsie Pop. You just lick, lick, lick until you finally get to the middle.”

“I’m confused,” Clay murmured, his fingers starting to move on their own, exploring the pink labyrinth of her sex. “Am I nibbling or chewing? Or licking? Oh wow, it’s so hot in there…”

Erica slipped his fingers inside, moving them in and out. “Like that. Mmm hmm. Good. Now, how coordinated are you? Can you walk and chew gum at the same time.”

“Uh I think so… do I have to try it? And are we switching candy and dessert items here? From brownies to Tootsie Pops to gum… I’m still confused.”

“Feel this?” Erica used his finger to brush over that little sensitive bud of flesh at the top of her cleft. “That’s the spot. That’s the center of the Tootsie Pop. That’s where you stay and lick and lick and ohhhh yes… if that was your tongue… oh God…”

“Okay, to hell with the dress rehearsal,” Clay said. “Let’s do this thing.”

Erica happily opened her legs for his eager mouth, and Clay spent a long time kissing her thighs, her mound, parting her with his fingers first, then his tongue, teasing, nudging that spot with his nose, his tongue delving lower.

“Wow, you take direction well.” Erica complimented him as he finally, oh sweet Jesus in heaven, finally flickered his tongue back and forth over that magic little button.

“Yes, I’m sure I’ll have a long, successful career in the armed forces, taking orders from my superiors. Or maybe I’ll be a Tootsie Pop licker. That’s a job, isn’t it? Someone has to do it…”

“Stop talking.” Erica moaned, undoing her bra and flinging it off so she could play with her own nipples. “Lick.”

He had teased her so long and so well, she was more than ready for her climax, and Clay did just as he was told, lick, lick, lick , his fingers moving in and out, the wet squelching sound filling the car as Erica thrust her hips up toward his delightfully torturous tongue.

“Ohhhh Clay!” Erica cried. “Now! Ohhh Clay now, now, lick it! Now!”

She shuddered, her orgasm lifting her pelvis off the seat with a thick, wet sound, her bottom peeling away from the vinyl, and Clay made a low noise in his throat as she quivered in his hands, under his lightning fast tongue.

“Wowwwwww.” He lifted his head, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand, and asked, “Can we do that again?”

Erica giggled as he climbed on top of her and she pulled his head down so she could kiss him full on the mouth, her tongue thrusting, tasting herself.

“Mmmm.” She met his eyes in the dimness. “I taste good.”

“That is very wicked and incredibly arousing. Why is that?”

“Oh goodness, feels like you’re nice and ready again. What are we going to do about that?”

“Go make brownies?”

“Okay.” Erica reached for her clothes and Clay sat up, stunned until she burst out laughing. “Your face! Oh that was precious!”

“Ha.Ha.” Clay grabbed her and pinned her down on the seat, holding her wrists above her head while he tickled her ribs and under her arms, making her howl with laughter.

“Bad girl,” he chastised, kissing the tip of her nose. “That’s what bad girls get.”

Erica pouted. “I thought bad girls got spankings.”

Clay’s eyes brightened. “You asked for it…”

“No, no!” Erica protested, twisting from side to side under him so he couldn’t reach her bottom. “But wait… do that again, what you were doing before…”

He frowned. “What?”

Erica put her wrists above her head. “Hold my hands up here. By my wrists. Yes, like that.”

“Now what?”

“Now put it me.”

Clay eagerly complied. Erica sighed happily, feeling him slide inside of her, taking the weight of him, the heat of him, so hot inside she felt like the core of the earth pulling him toward her center.

“Oh Erica,” he whispered. “Oh God that feels so good. I can’t stand it. I can’t…”

“Hold me down,” she whispered, urging him with her voice, her hips, “Hold me down and take me. Yes, like that. Do whatever you want to me, Clay. I’m totally yours. Do whatever you want.”

“Oh God!” he exclaimed, hand tightening around her wrists, hips thrusting deep, deeper, deepest, Erica taking all of him at the end, feeling his final release not just between her thighs, where he was spilling his seed like a white river of molten liquid, but in the way he squeezed her wrists in his hands, with the same rhythmic pulse, keeping her locked in his little prison of pleasure.

“Mmm.” Erica kissed his cheek as he started to come back into his body. “That was a very good lesson. I learned how to throw newspapers and you…”

Clay lifted his head and looked down at her. “And you have newsprint all over you.”

Erica glanced down to see his handprints on her thighs, her waist, even her breasts. The ink from the papers had rubbed off on his hands and then rubbed off on her skin.

“Something to remember you by.” She giggled. “Now you’d better take me home. I have to meet my best friend at Hudson’s tomorrow to pick out a wedding dress, so I need my beauty sleep.”

“No you don’t.” He kissed her nose and shook his head. “You couldn’t get any more beautiful. If you did, my head would explode.”

“Well we can’t have that. I hate cleaning up messes.”

“That explains the swallowing.”

Erica laughed and punched him in the arm.

“Erica?” Leah hesitated in front of Erica’s bedroom, calling softly. She rapped on the door-such a foreign gesture. Before things had gotten so complicated, Leah would have just walked into her room and climbed in bed with her best friend. But they weren’t just best friends anymore. Leah was about to marry Erica’s father, and whether they liked it or not, whether they talked about it or not, that changed everything. Erica’s mood changed like the wind lately. One moment they were the best of friends, the next you’d have thought Leah was responsible for all of the failings of the Western world

“Go away!” came the muffled reply.

Leah sighed, knocking again. “Erica, can I talk to you?”

Rob could sleep through a nuclear blast, but since Grace was born, Leah had slept lightly and she’d heard Erica leaving the warehouse late at night, coming back in the wee hours of the morning. Leah knew the pattern well-she’d done it herself when she was sneaking out to meet Rob. Erica clearly had a new love interest, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it was Clayton Marshall Webber III.

“It’s almost noon. Are you going to sleep all day?”

Leah heard Erica’s gasp and a moment later the door flew open and Erica stood there in a pink satin robe, holding the ends together with one hand, her hair a tousled mess, eyes bloodshot. Without makeup to cover it, Leah could see the dark circles under them.

“What time did you say?”

“Noon,” Leah repeated, watching Erica bolt to her dresser, rifling through her clothes.

“Shit!” Erica stepped into a pair of panties, pulling them up. “I’m late!”

“For what?” Leah sat on Erica’s bed like she used to, looking around the familiar room, everything frilly and pink. “I thought we could go to lunch at Hudson’s. I wanted to buy you jewelry to wear for the wedding. As my bridal gift.”

“Can’t today.” Erica hooked her bra, pulling a white sweatshirt over her head, making more of a mess of her blond hair. “Have you found a place to have this shindig yet?”