His fingers in rhythm with his tongue. I clawed at the blankets, bunching them in my hands as I writhed. Such wonderful torture. I bucked against h...m and cried out, moaning his name as I came fast and hard. My hands went to his hair as the pleasure overtook me and I tangled them there. His rhythm slowed and softened as I relaxed, my body sinking bonelessly onto the rumple blankets. He raised his head and smiled at me, his lips shining, the candlelight reflecting off the moisture in his. A table just big enough for two was laden with a very delectable meal. The sun was just grazing the western skyline of the city as we began our meal. Music drifted to us through a small stereo I had setup on the back porch. A warm breeze swept only a minute portion of the Texas heat away from us. We both sat there eating and sweating.It had been months since my trip to New York. My interview in the early morning hours on the outskirts of the city had been played repeatedly. I had become a. More

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