I’m spending the day with Guy New York writing in bars.
Here is our first prompt from Troy Orleans
@troyorleans: @Quickiesnewyork @writingdirty Ass eating. Or what wakes you up in the morning. These things dovetail for me.
She never took showers on Saturday mornings unless she wanted it. As I watched her towel off her hair I knew exactly what she was doing.
She couldn’t talk about it or even ask for it, but I knew and when I looked at her and smiled and shook my head she huffed and blushed and hid under the sheets.
I would pretend to sleep and she would pout. Then she would spot my smiling and punch my arm.
“Please?” she whispered in my ear and grabbed my t-shirt and pushed me under the sheets and away from the air conditioning until the world was soap and cotton and bare legs.
When it comes to forbidden things, this one was pretty benign. It was just a spot on her body I wasn’t supposed to kiss.
There was just enough light under the sheets for me to see a patch of hair. She turned and laid on her back and her legs went up in the air the way they always did when she wanted anything sexual. She held her legs open, hands tight under her knees.
My hands slipped under her and I held her whole bottom up like a bowl and my tongue swirled around her asshole.
I could hear the conflict in her moans. The shame made her squirm and shudder.
“It’s bad,” she said to herself, eyes closed tight.
I could actually see her pussy contracting as I pushed my tongue into her ass. I moved a hand up and just brushed her clit with my thumb.
“Please fuck me now?” she said suddenly looked down at me.
I pushed a finger into her ass and waited as she loosened to accommodate it.
“You’re going to have to be able to take three fingers first,” I said and her eyes widened.
Looking at the clock I saw it was only nine. We were going to earn our brunch.