The Tour Stop
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![]() The Divorce Attorney
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“Hey,” he coaxes, framing my face with his hands. “Where’d you go, darlin’? Come back to me.” I put all of our potential issues on a detour and focus on the man in front of me. “How could I be anywhere else when I’ve got that”—I wriggle my hips, grinding against the ridge in his pants—“beneath me?” He grunts. “Just checking. I was worried I was losing my edge there for a second.” He shifts the angle of his hips, driving his jutting erection directly against my mons. My eyes fall shut on a moan. “Pretty sure that’s impossible.” “No, what’s impossible is your body. You’ve been shoving these tits at me in my dreams ever since you first walked into my office. You know that? They’ve been the first thing on my mind every morning for almost a week now.” Hearing that does all kinds of fluttery things to my insides. His hands guide my hips into a rocking motion. I earnestly follow his direction, creating a simmering friction between our connected bodies. “Funny,” I whisper up at the night sky. “I’ve had similar dreams about you. Only you’re shoving something of yours in my face.” He growls, his mouth drifting over the swell of my breasts. “Is that right? You want to tell me more about that?” “You want me to show you instead?” He stills. “Is that a serious question?” I grin. “Predictable man.” “I’ve been called worse.” Before I can shimmy off his lap, his hand slides up to the back of my neck and pulls me down for a kiss that is so searing hot, it feels more like a brand. And dear God, that’s exactly what he’s managing to do. With every second I spend in his company, with every flick of his tongue, with every drawl of the word darlin’, he’s embedding himself beneath my skin, tattooing his touch onto every inch of my body. He might as well have already branded his initials right on my ass. And his expression after he pulls out of the kiss tells me I may be doing the very same thing to him. Surprisingly, after the conversation about marriage and kids, seeing that symmetry between us is comforting. I can’t take my eyes off of his as I open the button of his shorts, lower the zipper, and peel the material down his legs. His eyelids grow heavy with lust, his breaths shallowing. “You were sitting much like this in my dreams,” I tell him as I take in the beautiful sight of his thick shaft tenting his briefs. “But your arms were stretched out along the bench.” As if his body is being controlled by my words, he drapes his muscular arms over the back of the bench. I nod. “Just like that. And your shirt was off.” He obeys without hesitation, ripping the shirt over his head. “I was sitting naked on a public bench with you standing fully clothed in front of me? You dirty girl.” I have never seen anything more arousing than the sight of him sitting almost completely naked, sprawled out for my viewing pleasure, in one of the most breathtaking places I could ever imagine, awaiting a blow job from my mouth. “I never said we were in public.” I reach for the hem of my tank top and pull it over my head. “And I never said I was fully clothed.” His heated gaze inspects my lacy lavender bra. “That’s better.” “That’s all that’s coming off for now.” He frowns. “But I want more.” I quirk an eyebrow. “I believe I was the naked one on your chaise last night, and you were the clothed one. You going to complain?” His legs fall wider. “Not on your life. Show me how you dream about me, darlin’.” I inch his briefs down his legs, my anticipation rising. I’m biting my lip as I fall to my knees, bracing myself with my hands on his thighs. “My pleasure, Counselor.” “Pretty sure that’s going to be mine.” I dive right in without warning. With the level of steel his rod is at, I figure our words have been enough foreplay. “Jesus!” His thigh muscles tighten as he jolts in surprise. “That’s a good way to give a man a heart attack.” I ease my mouth back a hair, my lips just shy of grazing his tip. “I’m sorry, did you say heart attack or hard attack?” His head falls back. “I think I’m having both right now.” “Then you better hold on because this next part might kill you.” I swipe my tongue over his head, then glance up to see his hands clutching the bench in a death grip. “Any last words?” He blows out a long breath. “Fucking flatline me.”
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