The Interview

Heels. Long, shapely legs. Gossamer fine lingerie. Fuckable tits and a mouth I don’t know whether I want to kiss or defile with my dick.

Both, obviously. But which first?

Amelia Valente has a body built for sin. A mind too, if I’m not mistaken. Under that very real dappling of sunshine there’s a curiosity for pleasure. Pleasure I can and will give her again and again. It’s little wonder her parents sought to protect her for so long because she’s the kind of girl men like me live to corrupt.

I curl my hand around the full curve of her hip, and it seems to rise all by itself, sliding over her waist, higher over her rib cage. My mouth waters to taste her, the scent of her lingering on my tongue. The soft sigh she releases as I cup her breast sounds like pure encouragement. As I swipe the pad of my thumb over her nipple, making it stiffen, the transparency of her bra offering me that much.

“Do you like them?”

My first instinct is to give my head a quick shake. Surely, that wasn’t what she asked me, was it? Just how sheltered is she? What straight man doesn’t like tits—any tits, but especially ones that are full and soft and sit so beautifully in your hand? Then the penny drops. She’s talking about her underwear.

I press a kiss to the swell of cleavage with a rumbling, “Mmm, yes. I have exquisite taste.” Her breath stutters as I press my teeth to one soft curve. “You really are very lovely.”

“M-maybe we should lie down.” There’s more than a note of hope in her tone, her eyes lust hazed as her body moves pre-emptively back.

“I like where we are.” Hooking my finger into the cup, I expose a rose-pink nipple to my tongue. She hesitates, the movement fully aborted as her hands grasp my shoulders. Her sharp gasp is like a lick to the underside of my cock as I suck her nipple into my mouth.

“Oh, that’s…”

My reply is a sound of agreement. Of pleasure.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can stay on my feet.”

“I’ll catch you,” I whisper against her wet, shiny nipple, and she watches with languid-eyed pleasure as I draw the taut bud back into my mouth. My eyes hold her captive over the curve of her breast when I release the hard bud to drag my tongue. Her hips buck, my arms slipping behind her, curving her into my embrace.

“Whit, please,” she moans as I trail my mouth to her other breast, dragging the lacy cup down with my teeth.

“You’re so sensitive,” I murmur, dipping my tongue into the black lacy cup. “I want to see if you can come from just this.” She makes a plaintive noise, and I chuckle. “Not tonight.” No, not tonight because she’s not the only one struggling. My hands are at her back because I want to hold her, touch her, but also because they’re shaking—shaking like a boy with his first woman. And Amelia is all woman. Her waist curves deeply as though made for my hands, her breasts full and soft, the gentle swell of her stomach and the full roundness of her arse. Soft sighs, softer skin, the velvet musk of her. She’s a feast for the senses. She makes a glutton of me because I just can’t get enough. So I do what I can, what I want, unhooking her bra as I move her backward toward the bed. As her thighs hit the mattress, I follow, our bodies barely touching as I bring my mouth to her ear and her hand to my aching cock.

“Feel how hard I am,” I rasp, pressing it tighter. My balls tighten as the animal in me strains to take over. “You did this to me. You drive me fucking crazy.” She moans, her fingers tightening over my throbbing cock. When she lifts her hips, I drop mine to grind over her.

“Oh yes! Right there.”

“You’re such a hot little fuck, Amelia. Your pussy feels like heaven. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Where are you going?” Her words sound a little desperate as I slide back, pulling to my knees above her.

“Not far.” Slipping from the bed, I begin unbuttoning my shirt, when she pushes onto her elbows, her eyes smoky and avid as she watches.

She bites her lip, but the words escape anyway. “Please hurry.”

“So impatient.” I don’t bother to hide my amusement. “There’s something to be said for taking your time.”

“I don’t think I can wait.” The platinum whisps of her hair make a halo as she shakes her head.

Truthfully, neither can I. Not this time. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” As I discard my shirt, she sits up and makes a tentative gesture.

“Can I?”

Fuck, yes. “Be my guest.” I step between her legs.

My abs contract as she slides a finger down the line of fine, dark hair trailing from my navel. “Earworms,” she breathes as she curls her finger into my waistband.

“Ear what?” Maybe I didn’t hear right.

Something in my expression makes her mouth lift in a quick grin, though she ducks her head to hide it. “That song is going to be stuck in my head all night.”

“What song is that?”

“Disney’s ‘Beauty and the Beast’?” Her gaze lifts hesitantly. “Don’t tell me your sisters—”

I press a finger to her lips. “No talk of family.” My finger drifts away, and I slide a tender kiss to that full pout. “Now, where were we?”

“Here. We were here.” Her hands rise to my belt again, making swift work of the buckle as my cock strains, aching for her touch. Aching from neglect, I imagine, as I use my finger to lift her chin. It seems I can’t resist the opportunity.

“Tell me what you’re about to do.”

“To take off your pants?” she offers hesitantly.

“And?”

Her lips twist with confusion. “Undress you?”

“You’re going to get my cock out.”

She blinks, then nods in the affirmative. “Yeah, I am.”

“So tell me that, sweetheart. Use that pretty mouth, say the words.”

“I…” She gives her head a shake. “I don’t want to.”

“But I want you to. And that, sweet girl, is the point.”

“Then let’s get to the point,” she whispers, grazing her fingers over my hard length.

As quick as a flash, I grab the base of her ponytail, tugging her head back. Breath catches in her throat, her expression one of that wild place between pleasure and pain. Her teeth tug her bottom lip, the sight triggering a memory. I’d imagined this the first time she appeared in my office. I imagined working my hand into her hair to hold her in place. I’d tease and taste.

“Say it, Amelia.” My words are silkier than a demand. “Tell me you’re going to take out my cock and suck me off.”

Her breasts rise and fall, lush and ripe and just beneath my attention because I can’t take my eyes from hers. So gray. So intensely smoky. She might not like to use the words, but she does like to hear them, it seems.

“I want to taste you,” she whispers.

Sometimes less is more, and this is definitely one of those times. I release the pressure on her ponytail, the sound of her eager breaths overlaying the slide of my zipper. The sides of my pants fall open when she seems to halt.

“Don’t stop now.” I brush the backs of my fingers down her neck when she seems content to stare at my boxers. “Not when you’re so close.” Not when my cock is so close to her mouth. She swallows, then slips her fingers into the waistband as though pulling them down for a look.

“Oh, boy.” The waistband snaps against my skin, the sound moment almost comedic as her eyes sweep up my body. “Or maybe that should be, oh, Daddy.”

“I’m waiting.” My attention flicks down pointedly.

She licks her lips, and I swear it’s not for effect as she stares at me with an intensity that makes the edges of my vision go hazy. When she glances up at me through those dark-painted lashes, I know what’s coming next.

“Yes. Whatever you say, Daddy.”

She is so bloody perfect.

Her fingers slide into my pants, and she takes the heft of both my cock and my balls into her hands. The experience is a tidal wave of relief that makes me moan like I’m paid to do it. Her breath is a tiny, terrible torture as she lowers her head, drawing her tongue across my slit.

The visual, the sensation, all of it—my praise delivered with a sandpapery rasp. The muscles in my thighs twitch, my hand instinctively guiding her head closer when she presses her lips to the smooth head.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” I groan raggedly as she slides her lips a little lower. There is nothing more intimate than sucking pussy or swallowing cock, whichever your pleasure might be. But this? This moment is sublime. Her mouth stretched around my girth looks so fucking incredible, and the way it feels? I wouldn’t be surprised to feel my soul leave my body, to see it suddenly ascend heavenward.

“Yes. Yes, like that.” I slide my hand to the back of her head, and she moans her approval, the vibration turning my insides to goo. Fire runs through my veins, or maybe that’s Amelia’s brand of sunshine, the force of it increasing at the hot slide of her mouth. My whole being is a pool of swirling, swimming yes, fucking yes as I give a couple of experimental flexes of my hips. “Amelia, you take my cock so, so beautifully.”

She makes a strangled cry, one I almost join her in as she pulls back.

“Whit!” My name sounds like amazement as she blinks up at me. “Oh my God, I never knew feedback could be so hot!”

“Debrief later,” I rasp, pressing her head lower again. My cock is literally weeping, and if my balls get any tighter, they might lodge themselves in my throat.

“You first,” she says with a sultry giggle. Sliding her hands into my boxer briefs at my hips, she slips the remains of my clothing down. I kick them away. “Me next?” she suggests, snapping the elastic of her knickers for good measure.

“Less talk, more sucking.” Her head dips as she obliges. “Fuck, yes!” I groan as she inhales me deeply with a sexy little sigh. “Debrief… coming soon.” Her delectable lips still wrapped around my girth, she twists the head, her wide eyes darting to mine. “Not that kind of coming.” I didn’t know it was possible for someone to snort while sucking cock. It turns out the raspy press of it is more than pleasant. “You’re good, but…” I press my hand to the back of her head when my body bows unexpectedly forward when she paints a wet stripe of pleasure along the underside of my hard length. I growl, grabbing for her ponytail but not before she swirls her tongue around my wet crown.

So it seems Amelia likes a challenge.

“I’ll come down the back of your throat any time, sweetheart.” As I tighten my grip on her hair, her attention flicks my way. “I just thought it might be impolite for our first time.”

Lashes lowered, she cedes control, allowing me to lazily flex into her hot mouth a few times, but the whole fucking experience is too much. I want to thrust, cram my dick down the back of her throat because she’s just so fucking perfect. The half-moons of her thick lashes, her pink lips, and the velvet feel of her mouth, the hard pebble of her nipples, and the silk of her skin. Worse, my grip feels tenuous, like I’m a couple of thrusts from blowing my load. With supreme effort, I pull back, my cock leaving her mouth with a wet sucking sound. She can’t suppress her small smile as she wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. She’ll never truly be submissive. Just the way I like her.

Like a choreographed dance, I move forward, and Amelia moves back, her back connecting with the bed. I press my body over hers, swiping my lips across hers in invitation. She takes it, her back arching as our mouths meet. We explore the other’s rhythm in small, exploratory kisses that soon turn to something wilder. Deeper and wetter. Amelia begins to writhe under me, her hands blindly grasping—my neck, my arse—the arch of her foot a sensuous slide up my calf.

“Is this what you need?” I rasp. Dropping my hips to hers, I rock over her. The sound she makes deserves to be bottled as a rare vintage. “Use your words.”

“Whit, please.” Her hands tighten in the short hairs at the back of my head as she pulls my mouth to hers. A gasp, hot and desperate. “I need you inside before I burst.”

My eyes close briefly at the picture she paints, a pained rumble rising from my throat. “That sounds like something I need to taste first.”

She almost whimpers as I begin to slide down her body, pressing my mouth to her skin like a scattering of pearls against satin. “Please hurry.”

“Oh, darling, no.” She bucks as my tongue pays tribute to her nipples. “We have all night, and I plan on making the most of it.” Her breath is a shallow, quivering thing as I flick my tongue over her nipple once more, then press my teeth to the soft underside of her breast. “I’m going to pin you to my bed and make your body my playground.”

“Oh.”

Down, down I slide until I’m on my knees like a devotee, pressed between the altar that is her pussy as her body silently begs.

“One day very soon,” I whisper, hooking my thumbs into the string of her underwear, “You’re going to slide your hand into these and show me how you touched yourself while thinking of me.” She whimpers as I slide the scant garment down her legs. “In the daylight, where I can see every tiny reaction. Your legs spread wide and your eyes on me.”

My hands on the insides of her knees, I press them wider, loving the jolt of her body as I press a kiss to the top of her slit.

“You’re so lovely, Amelia.” My hands skate up her inner thighs, my thumbs sliding over her pussy, exposing her glistening center. “Even your cunt is so very pretty.” I hear the sharp intake of her breath as I dip my head, the hot exhalation of my words the only pleasure I’ll grant her. “So pink.” She shivers at the contact, her hips lifting from the bed in a silent plea. “Why don’t you tell me where you need me?”

“You know where.” Her words, like her body, are as taut as a bow string.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to hear. You’re not the only one who likes a little aural.”

“You just want to torment me,” she says, her hands reaching for my head. She almost levitates from the bed at the next swipe of my tongue. Not from enjoyment but from anguish as I deliver a long lick to her thigh. A lick, a sucking kiss, I move to the other side, avoiding where she needs me most. “Please, Whit.” She reaches for my hair when I grasp her hands, shackling her wrists with my fingers.

“Keep them here.” My warning is clear as I press them to her sides. “I need you to keep still. Can you do that for me? Because if you don’t, I’ll eat you out all night, but you won’t get to come.”

“Neither will you,” she says breathlessly.

Honing my tongue to a point, I press the tiniest touch to her slit. “Won’t I?”

“You… you sadist.”

“Fiendish at worst.” My words are a tiny huff that makes her shiver. Nestling my tongue a little deeper, I deliver the tiniest flick to her clit. “At best, it’s just a little payback for how you’ve tortured me. Are you going to keep still?”

She nods.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“Yes. I’ll try to be good for you.”

“Next time, try that with a little sincerity.”

Her soft laughter turns to a whimper as I spread her open, sliding a long lick along one side of her pussy, barely grazing her clit. She lifts her hips, trying to control the contact, crying out in frustration as I move lower. I deliver a series of shallow circles and tiny licks, working my tongue higher… before starting again.

Her hands ball into fists, her body taut beneath me as my mouth pays homage to her pussy.

“I’m so hard for you.” A swipe of tongue. A long, velvety groan into the center of her. “You’re so fucking delicious.” A press of lips to the soft rise of her clit. “Like peaches and cream.” My God, the musky, womanly scent of her and the sense of her pale flesh under me drives me to the fucking brink as I slip my hands under her arse, lifting her to my mouth.

“Oh God!” she cries out as I finally inhale her swollen clit. “Oh, Whit!” Her hands reach for my head again before they drop back to the bed.

Leaning on my elbow, I make a rough-sounding tsk. “Oh dear. You know what that means. I’ll have to start again.”

She cries plaintively as I press my head between her legs and begin the sweet, terrible seduction all over again, kissing her everywhere except where she really wants me, where she needs me, my tongue drawing maddeningly close to her clit before sliding away again.

“Whit, please. I’ll be good, just please let me come.” There’s a hitch in her throat, her plea desperate.

“I don’t know that I’m finished.” My voice is a low rumble as I wrap my fingers around her ankle, lifting her foot to the bed. “Not when you pulse so prettily for me.”

“Please,” she begs as her thighs begin to shake. Her pussy contracting in a wave again.

“Maybe I’ll be kind and put you out of your misery.” My tone might be cool, but the knot in my belly tightens as I return my mouth to where she’s wet and hot. “If you tell me what you want. Tell me properly. Use all the filthy words.”

“Please, please, put your mouth on my clit. Suck on it—fuck me! I’ll come so hard for you, I promise. Just please let me!”

Less is more sometimes. And sometimes you just want to hear her beg you.

With a growl, I engulf her clit. I suck on it. Circle and flick. I make out with her pussy until her low moans bounce from the walls of the room and her inhibitions dissolve like sugar on my tongue. The way she rides my tongue, the sound of my name on her lips. It drives me fucking wild, my tongue coated in her heavenly slickness. I’m neither able to taste enough or touch enough—feel enough—as she thrashes, wrapping her legs around my head. A clunk sounds as something hits the floor. The glass water bottle, I’d guess, the thought barely registering as she presses her heels between my shoulder blades, making good on her promise. Pleasure coats her thighs as I lick her again and again until her mouth is full of filth, and her climax a thing of loud, unrestrained beauty.

“That’s it, darling. Ride my face. Come on my tongue.”

I give her no time to come down, no soft licks or delicate tongue as I scramble from the floor, putting my knee to the mattress. Her pussy is a slick slide against my stomach as I wrap my arms around her, lifting her against me.

“What are you…?”

“Just getting us a little more comfortable.” I press her down, and she whimpers at the drag of my cock when I reach across the bed to pull the nightstand drawer open. I move back, simultaneously ripping open a condom with my teeth.

“You’re staring, not that I’m complaining.”

“Of course you’re not.” Her mouth hitches in the corner.

“I wonder what it is you’re trying to imply.”

“Me? Nothing.” The bedding rustles as she gives her head a tiny shake. “You’re just being you, and why wouldn’t you be. But…” She worries her lip a little as though hesitant to go on.

“Tell me.” Her breath hitches, her eyes glued to where I take my cock in my hand.

“Do you ever think of me when you touch yourself?” she asks, her gaze lifting warily.

I give my cock a thorough tug, for her benefit mostly, my smile spilling as slow as honey. “Since you appeared and decided to torture me, my right hand and my cock have never been quite so intimately acquainted. Not since I was a teenager, at any rate.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look so pleased. That wasn’t a compliment.” It absolutely was. “It’s all on you. And it will be all on you if I don’t get this on.” I raise the open condom packet between my forefinger and middle finger.

“I’d like to see what that looks like sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve seen it before, you know. In porn.”

“Then I might show you the real thing. Some other time.”

“If I’m a good girl?”

My gaze flicks over her. “Let’s not make goals unobtainable.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she ask, faux aggrieved.

“I’m not sure being good is your forte. You’re like that rhyme about the girl with the pearl. When she’s good she’s very, very good. But when she’s bad, she’s fucking delightful. Oh, look,” I add, bending and swiping my thumb over the rise of her clit. “You are the girl with the pearl.”

She laughs, flashing that gorgeous gap as she lifts her wrists above her head, stretching out in a supple line of attitude and wanton need. “You don’t think I can be good?”

“Not without incentive.”

Suddenly, she looks like the cat that licked the cream. She draws her foot up the bed and drops her knee provocatively. “I can be good, Whit. In fact, I think I can be really good. Ditch the condom, Daddy. I have the implant.”

I don’t answer, at least, not immediately. I think my heart might’ve stopped working for a second. Skipped a few beats? Fuck her bare; did I just hear that right?

“I mean, not that you have to.” Her knee begins to close, the insecurity in her tone penetrating my lustful stupor. It’s all I can do not to fall on her to fuck her immediately. I manage to do the latter, but the former happens before I even realize. She is a gift. A fucking gift.

“You’re sure?” I press my lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder to hide what her offer does to me. The way I feel right now, I’d fuck her while wearing a Marigold glove. “Because if you’re not—”

“You would never put me at risk,” she says, pressing her hand to my cheek.

Her breath hitches as I turn my head and my lips graze her hand. “Your trust undoes me.” Taking her hand in mine, I lift it once more above her head, then push up onto my palms.

“I can’t believe we’re really going to do this.” Her voice trembles with emotion, but I can no longer speak, so I press my lips to hers. It’s a small kiss, but one that seems to take on a life all of its own. Passionate lips and teeth and tongue, the slide of her hot breath across my lips making my abs tense with need, endorphins and chemical lust rushing through my veins.

“Does this not feel real to you?” Do I think it or say it as I drop my hips, sliding the crown of my cock to where she’s so open.

Her reply is all gasp as I breach her so slowly, I know it’s hurting us both. Pain in the best kind of way. “It feels unreal.” Her voice is a delicate slide across my cheek as I stare down the channel between our bodies, past the sacred dips and valleys of her to where her body accepts mine. “My God. Oh, Whit.”

I am bathed in her bliss as I push in fully.

She’s so—Jesus! I’m not sure a word has been invented for how her body feels wrapped around me. Hot. Tight. Silky. All those words and more. Buried to my hilt, inside her, she pulses around me. Her hands scramble at my back as I withdraw, her fingers almost piercing as, with a snap of my hips I drive into her again, my grunt countering her cry.

“You’re so big,” she pants beneath me.

“And you’re perfect. Feel how we fit.” As though I need to prove the point, I cradle her jaw in my hand as I thrust slowly inside her. My eyes dare hers to look away as I fuck her slowly, steadily. When I pull back and drive deep inside her, her gaze never wavers, though the movement would be reason enough. Her eyes on mine, she cries out.

So fucking perfect. It’s all so fucking perfect.

“You feel like you were made for me. Her whimpers turn to cries as I deliver a series of deep, punishing thrusts, our mouths meeting messily on my grunting upthrust.

“Oh, darling.” I tighten my grip as I begin to flex and pump, grinding against her as body coaxes me on. “That’s right,” I rasp as she goes silent. Goes rigid. “Come for me.”

She gasps. I feel it on my face. I feel it pulsing around me.

I groan, undulating above her, not daring to move. “Amelia, I can feel you coming around my cock.”

Her body milks mine for all that it’s worth—and she can have me because right now, there is nothing to stop this from happening. Fire rushes through my veins, white hot and intense, as my own climax begins to build. I’m unable to stop, unable to process the waves of pleasure drowning me as I hammer myself home one final time.

A pulsing rush of sensation overcomes. I see lights and stars, my mind punching out as my body takes over.