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He gently bites my top lip, sucks it. I feel him harden. I stroke it and then lick my fingers and stroke it some more. And I can feel his cock move inside me, brushing ever so slightly against the soft fleshy wall. He pushes into it, just enough to wet the tip. And I turn on my side to accommodate him, bending the top leg at the knee, like a dancer doing the Can-Can, to give him a clear view of the runway as his craft comes into land.
My fingers are slick with juice, thick and sticky, and white as snow. I wake him with a kiss on the forehead, my sweet prince, and watch him slowly rouse from slumber. And I turn on my side to accommodate him, bending the top leg at the knee, like a dancer doing the Can-Can, to give him a clear view of the runway as his craft comes into land. Whether it was four or three or two or one. I can feel him inside me and I want to come. I can feel him hard, pressing against my wall. Not in, not out. And I can feel his cock move inside me, brushing ever so slightly against the soft fleshy wall. He cups my breast, brushes the nipple with his thumb. I feel rotten, laden with the dread of a whole day of not knowing if his anger will have eased off by the time he comes home. Blood rushes to my head, to my clit. And as I come, I call out his name. And I feel my pussy close around the head. I feel myself getting wet. And holds it there. He pushes into it, just enough to wet the tip. Grey has likened her debut book to "Fight Club," but with sex instead of fighting, as it delves into the tumultuous world of an underground sex group, and aims to promote sexual liberation: He gently bites my top lip, sucks it. I reach down and stroke myself where all the sweat gathers, where the smell of my sex is strongest. I push a finger into me. He pushes into me. And my finger probes around the hole, scooping up my juice and spreading it up towards my clit, wetting it, brushing it, feeling it throb. He takes his cock in his hands, guides it towards my pussy, towards the hole, where the wetness gathers. I feel him harden. As if he had never woken when I came to bed. I close my eyes, slide my fingers between my thighs and think of Jack, still sleeping, as if none of this had happened. His cock stretches my hole.
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