#SSceneC2015 : Joan Kilby @JoanKilby vs Shari Slade @ShariSlade #NSFW

Posted August 7, 2015 by Nix in Sex Scene 2015 / 0 Comments

cooltext129748819578231 Turning the Tables – Joan Kilby

Author Links : WebsiteTwitter
Buy Links : None as of yet so I’m adding the GoodReads Link

­­­­­­A knock sounded at the door. Luke, anticipating the coming role play, felt his cock stiffen. Who would she be today? “Come in.”

Demurely, Tina entered his office. Ah, the Librarian. Her prim black pencil skirt and demure blouse couldn’t hide her sexy curves any more than her lowered lashes concealed her smoldering eyes. “I’ve heard you…know what a woman wants.”

“I know what a woman needs.” Rising, he went to her and casually flipped open her top buttons. “Let’s see what’s under that pretty blouse.” A rosy flush spread across lush breasts above a lacy red bra. “You’re not a good girl after all, are you?”

She peeked at him through her lashes. “I’ve been bad, actually. Really bad.”

“Then you need to be spanked.” His hand itched to touch her silky olive skin, to see the red rise to the surface of her cheeks, to make her feel the sting…and love it. “Take your skirt off. The blouse, too.”

He sank into his office chair while she unzipped facing away from him and pushed the skirt down her hips, bending over to give him a mouth-watering view of lacy red panties cut high on her smooth round ass. Her blouse and bra came off and were flung away. Then she lay across his parted legs, squeezing her breasts between her arms and gave him a sexy pout. “Don’t hurt me.”

He just smiled. Then he curved his palm around the ripe, fleshy mound of one cheek, feeling the rasp of lace and the firm, resilient flesh beneath his fingertips. Slowly, he moved his hand in a circular motion. The dark crevice between her cheeks opened and closed rhythmically. His cock was painfully hard. Without warning he raised his hand and brought it down sharply. A rosy blush spread in the imprint of his palm. She moaned and wriggled, moving her breasts against his thigh.

“Are you sorry for being a bad girl?” He blew on the hot slap mark and soothed it with his fingers.

“No, I like being bad,” she said, low and sultry. “I’m not sorry.”

“Then I’m going to have to spank you again.” His hand came down on the other cheek. She arched and lifted her butt. Again he struck, harder, eliciting a gasp and a sigh. He alternated between spanks and a light massage until she was moaning in ecstasy, her eyes closed as she bit her bottom lip. Luke reached down to unzip and give his aching cock some relief. He stroked himself a couple of times and pushed the fingers of his other hand between her cheeks to find her slick, swollen folds. The head of his cock dragged against her bare belly, smearing a bead of liquid across her skin.

“Have you had enough, bad girl?” His index finger circled her clitoris then dipped lower to enter her. She was so wet for him. And hot. And tight. He ached to be inside her, fucking her brains out.

Mutely, she shook her head, her color high and eyes challenging.

“Get up.” He helped her to a standing position but he remained seated. His zipper was all the way down, his cock fully upright, hard and pulsing. “Bend over the desk.”

Leaning forward she rested her elbows on the polished oak. He dragged her panties down to her ankles. She kicked them off and spread her legs. Her pussy was at eye level, ripe red and glistening. Tempting him to taste her. Gripping her ass, he leaned forward and licked, shooting his tongue forward to flick her clitoris. Her rear end swayed and lifted higher, giving him better access. He took one hand off her butt and found a breast. Caressing and molding, he squeezed her nipple to a hard peak as his tongue continued to tease, licking and circling till she was moaning.

“I want you inside me, Luke,” she whispered. It was the first time she’d spoken his name through the whole exchange. It almost undid him.

The urge to plunge into her was impossible to resist. He fumbled in a side drawer on his desk for a condom. Rising, he positioned the head of his cock against her opening. “Tell me again, what do you want?”

“I want you inside me, fucking me.” Her breathing was harsh, shallow.

He rubbed his cock back and forth in her groove, almost penetrating before easing away. “What do you say?”

“Please, Luke. Please fuck me.”

“Now, my little librarian, I’m going to show you what you’ve been missing.” He gripped her hips and pushed into her, slowly and deliberately, savoring the exquisite sensation of stretching her, and her gripping him, tight and hot.

“Faster,” she panted. “I’ll be a good girl now.”

“It’s too late for that,” he panted. “I’m going to fuck you like you deserve to be fucked. The way you want to be fucked. The way you need to be fucked.”

He started to pump, hard and fast, his face buried in her hair, breathing in her scent. One hand was splayed across her breasts, the other over her mound, forming a buffer between her and his pounding cock. With every thrust he pushed her clit against his fingers.

She braced her hands against the desk and held on. “Oh, that’s good. Yes. Yes.” She was rocking against the desk. The desk legs banged on the carpeted floor. Papers slid off in a heap, pens scattered. “You make me feel so…good.”

Just when he thought he couldn’t hold on another second, she let out a half-shriek, half-moan and went limp in his arms. His whole body shuddered with one last, hard thrust and then he exploded into her, his hips pumping reflexively as he emptied himself.

cooltext129750505189949Ride Me Hard – Shari Slade 

 Author Links : WebsiteTwitter
Free on : Amazon | B&N

Noah squeezes his eyes shut. “I can’t shock you, can I?”

“It’s not all an act—I’m not stupid. You’re a big bad biker. Got it. But I bet you could shock me more if you stopped trying so hard to scare me away.”

“Fine.” He takes a long look at my body, up and down and back up again. A searching gaze that tightens my nipples and raises the blush that had started to recede. Every flick of his eyes feels like a puzzle piece being snapped into place. “Suck me off.”

“What?” I’d expected him to argue with me, to be even bigger and badder, to bang his chest and prove me wrong. Waitressing taught me to read people pretty well, but maybe I’d miscalculated. I roll off him and stand beside the bed.

Ooof. I stumble when his hand snakes between my legs and around my thigh, pinning me before I can’t get more than a step away.

“You heard me. You want me to stop trying to scare you away? Get to work. Put that perceptive little mouth of yours on my cock. I’ve been imagining what it would feel like since you hit your knees outside the diner.”

Somewhere in the back of my brain I know I’m supposed to be a little pissed off, but I’m too busy wondering if he can feel the wetness running down the inside of my thigh and thinking about how fucking hot it sounds. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir. That’s for bankers and businessmen and shit. Boring fucks who wear ties and drive Volvos.” He flicks open the fly of his jeans while he scolds me, and his heavy palm pushing down on my shoulder lets me know I’m obliged to perform from the floor, not the bed.

He stands up, and I keep my eyes trained on the open flap of his pants, the navy cotton underwear peeking out, the erection barely contained by either. “I call everyone sir at work.”

“This ain’t work.”

Well, that settles one thing. I tug the pants down from his hips and suck in a breath. The ink swirling over his hands and arms swirls over his belly too. Every inch of him that I can see is covered. Except the lowest part of his abdomen…and his cock. Thick and blunt and glistening with precum. Oh, that cock could hurt me. It could choke me. It might do both of those things before our time together is over. I squeeze my thighs together at the thought, because damn if that isn’t exactly what I want.

“You’re squirming and licking your lips, Star. Tell me what’s going on in that busy head of yours or get to it.”

The silky skin of his dick is so hot against my palm. I curl my fingers around the base and squeeze once before licking the tip with the flat of my tongue, catching the salty drops beaded there and whisking them away. I lap at the underside, slicking him from the base of his cock to the ridge beneath the head—and look up at him. For approval? For reassurance? For instruction? I don’t know. For something.

His eyes are shuttered, offering me absolutely nothing. So I push. I tell him what I’m thinking between lazy licks. “Your cock’s gonna hurt me. That’s what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart. I’m going to hurt you. And you like that, don’t you? Shit. I tried to hold back, but you just won’t let me, will you?” He wraps my hair in his hand and pushes me down.

I open my mouth instinctively, taking the hot length of him between my lips. This is what I want. This invasion.

“I’m going to get so deep inside you—your mouth, your pussy, your mind.” He rocks his hips, nudging his cock deeper still.

I try to take it, but no amount of slow deep breathing can stop the reflex that makes my throat spasm and my shoulders hitch. He grunts, tightening his fingers in my hair, and I know he likes that too. Likes me on my knees, choking for him. Likes me whimpering. He pumps faster, and my eyes water. Fuck, he’s big. I try to pull back, to shorten the strokes a little, but his hand is on the back of my head, pulling my hair, urging me to take more. To take everything he gives me. Forcing me.

My clit throbs. I slip a hand between my legs, and he grunts his approval.

“That’s it, baby. Get yourself off while I fuck your face.”

Yes.

My body answers with an orgasm that breaks like the tide, an angry wave against a rocky shore. Hard and fast. Inevitable. I shudder, but my cries are trapped at the back of my throat, muffled against his cock.

I’m coming. I’m coming so hard. All over my hand, on the floor in front of him. I feel ruined and perfect. Powerful, desperate and spent. I feel everything at once.

He jerks free of my mouth and pumps himself, painting hot come across my neck and breasts. Just like he promised earlier. I’m going to come all over them.

He swirls a finger in the mess he’s made—a quick flourish that could be a figure eight even if it does feel like a heart—and swipes it over my bottom lip. “When I’m through with you, I promise you’re going to ache for days and there won’t be an inch of you left that isn’t mine.”

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