"Oh, she knew what it was. That and the fact Kurt didn't was priceless."
"Helen's response telling him that Scarlett would explain..." We both lie back for a minute, laughing and reliving the scene. "Do you think that's happening right now?"
Kimbra covers her face with her hands. "Eww, stop. So many images I don't want in my head."
I close my eyes and see the image I've been seeing all night, the one of Kimbra in a wedding dress. Each time I see it, the visualization is more complete. Now it's not just her, but the same little church, Oscar walking beside her. I can't understand why it won't go away. I shouldn't be the one seeing it, because no way in hell am I the man at the end of the aisle.
I push it away...even as it tries to persist.
Kimbra begins to stand, bringing me back to present. I lean forward and reach for her hand. "Where do you think you're going, Miss Jones?"
"To get out of this dress, Mr. Willis."
I sit up, leaning back on my elbows. "I like the sound of that. Do you have music?"
"Music?" She looks puzzled, but only for a second. "I'm not doing a striptease for you."
I lift my brows. "Oh, but I would like that very much."
"Duncan?"
"Okay, no music. We don't want Helen to come join in." Before Kimbra can respond, I go on, "But a little sway of those sexy hips and a tug of that zipper on the side...?"
Kimbra closes her eyes. For a second I think she's going to totally refuse and then it happens.
Slowly she begins to sway.
The blue skirt of her dress pitches one way and then the other as her hands roam over her sexy curves. The tips of her fingers trace from the magical scooped neckline and seductively brush up to her collarbone and her sensual neck until they're swaying above her head. One by one, hairpins drop as her long, luscious hair falls in spirals and waves. Soon it too is swaying.
And then, as if the beat changed, she turns, spinning slowly as her arms lower. She wraps them around herself, finding the zipper and tugging, all the while keeping her hips swaying and heels moving to the unheard tune.
My dick hardens as she continues to move.
As I watch her rhythm—each sway, each jiggle—I begin to hear the fucking imaginary music. The beat is made by the breeze through the window, and the chorus is the night sounds of the country air. It's hotter than any music at any gentlemen's club, and I could listen to it for hours.
As Kimbra's dress slips from her shoulders, the vision of her strapless bra and matching triangle of lace makes my balls tighten. Her barely-there undergarments are the color of her creamy skin, barely holding her huge tits as she continues to dance. Her eyelids flutter, appearing heavy with wanton lust.
It's more than I can take. I start to stand, but stop when Kimbra shakes her head, telling me no.
Fuck, it's hot.
Spinning, she reaches for the clasp of her bra and my favorite tits in the entire world are on display. Not just visible, but moving with her, heavy with desire and swaying as she leans forward. Their weight helps them swing to the silent beat.
"Fuck," I growl.
Again, she comes closer, putting her hands on my knees and leaning forward. Two large perfect mounds materialize before me. It's the best fucking view I've ever seen. When she stands, her thumbs latch onto each string holding the lace over her pussy, and she pulls them down, stepping out of the lace, now wearing only the damn nude-colored, shiny heels.
With a crook of her finger she encourages me to stand. Once I do, she reaches for my belt. Unbuckling it, she lowers my zipper and pulls back my boxers as I stand still. My erection springs free. A few more shimmies and spins and she moves farther away, dancing toward her dresser. It's when she opens the drawer and pulls out a silver packet that I know I'm lost to Kimbra Jones.
When she turns back, the condom packet is between her teeth as Kimbra sashays my direction. I bite my cheek as she falls to her knees and kisses the tip of my cock.
Early ejaculation has never been one of my problems, but with simply the brush of her lips, I'm transported to the lawn chair behind the barn and the best damn blow job of my life. I fear I may blow. In an instant she rolls the covering over my length and then stands. Without a word she pushes me back to the bed. Only a half-second behind, she follows closely, climbing onto my lap until her hands are on my shoulders, her tits in my face, and her knees straddling my legs.
"Ride me, baby," I barely gasp the words, needing some control, though I know I have none.
Her lips stop more demands as she settles over me, kissing me and sheathing my cock in more than the condom—in her tight, wet pussy.
It's fucking heaven as she moves up and down. My hands support us, but my mouth is free to suck and bite as I enjoy the huge, round globes. As her breathing labors and she begins to pant, I reach for her waist and flip her over.
"Having you ride me," I growl, "is fucking amazing."
Her eyes open wide as I slide in and out, slowing her rhythm and creating my own.
"But now it's time to remind you who's the boss."
Her smile grows. "Show me, sir."
I almost lose it as I take over and we fall in sync. As she shudders around me, her red lips forming the perfect O, I remember her word.
Pretend.
This is pretend, but not the way she's been defining it. What is pretend is my show of control. Kimbra Jones has it all. I'd fall to my knees and beg her if I could make this weekend continue.
The morning sun moves higher in the sky, lighting the bedroom.
"Hmm," Kimbra hums as she rolls toward me, reminding me that last night is only a memory. "Well, good morning."
Undoubtedly, she rolled right into my morning erection.
I kiss her forehead. "Good morning. Kimbra?" I ask, hoping she is willing.
Nodding, she lies back. With my face between her small hands, she pulls me toward her. As we move together, our connection never breaks and our tongues dance.
My hands roam, wanting to touch every inch of her beautiful body, taking in her soft skin. It's as I tease between her legs that she reaches for my length. Our separation is too much. I have to be closer. Her legs move farther apart, whether from my attention or she too has been remembering the night before. Whatever the reason, her pussy is warm and wet. It isn't until I'm fully buried that I realize what I've done.
My body stills.
Kimbra's eyes open wide as the realization hits her too. Instead of anger, her expression softens. "I'm on the pill. Please don't stop. This feels too good."
Fuck yes, it feels like heaven. A silken glove that's two sizes too tight.
Though my heart is racing, my body moves slowly, enjoying every thrust as we start our morning closer than we've ever been.
I rain kisses over her cheek, ear, and neck. My morning stubble leaves her skin pink, and I can't help but think how much I love leaving my mark on her. It's about then when a roar rumbles from my throat, my body stiffens, and I leave my mark inside her.
Once she’s in my arms, curled against my side with her head against my shoulder, I give her what she deserves. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I promise, I'm clean. I never do that. Never."
"I don't think you can say that anymore."