Free The Sex Whisperer: Book 1 in the Whisperer Trilogy by Sadie Rabbit Page A

stop stroking my cock, and I slide my tongue even further in. I run my right hand up above your sex and use my moist thumb to massage your clit.
    I can feel your thighs tighten on the side of my head, and I know that you’re enjoying it. I’m overwhelmed by your taste, by the secrecy and thrill of being with you in the presence of others. I start moving my hips, thrusting my cock into that hollow between your feet. As I do, you stroke me faster — more urgently.
    I’m about to come, so I sit up, grab your ankles and squeeze your feet together even harder against the base of my cock. As I look down, I’m amazed by how thick I am. Even in the dim light, I can see my cock throbbing for you.
    I thrust my hips up one last time. As I do, I grab your feet and wrap them tightly around my swollen head. Then, I shut my eyes and finish. My whole body spasms with the first gush. I’m holding my breath now, and I keep holding it through the second and third waves. My hands are wrapped tightly around the tops of your feet, and I can feel them grow slick and moist.
    I look down and see that there’s come on my stomach and a mess of it in my pubic hair. You’re massaging my balls with your toes. Then, suddenly, you stop.
    Above, I hear the waiter set a plate on the table. His voice comes to me muted, asking if you’d like anything else. I pull a handkerchief from my jacket. Carefully, I wipe off your feet and set them back on the floor. Then, I wipe myself clean and pull up my pants.
    It’s you I’m focused on now. I waste no time. I push your thighs apart roughly, and begin kissing and sucking on your clit. You clamp your legs against the side of my head and reach both hands under the table. You grab two fistfuls of my hair and use them to force me harder against your sex.
    You slide your hips further down the chair, and I press my tongue hard inside you. I’m listening as I do, nervous that others patrons will hear any noises you might make. I know it’s torture for you to stay quiet. I guide my tongue in and out of you faster. Then, I use both of my thumbs to massage you. I circle around your clit with my right thumb and I press my left thumb inside your sex, opening you up further for my tongue.
    I speed up. One thumb thrumming against your clit, the other gliding in and out of your sex. Faster and faster. You’re pulling my hair so hard now, I’m afraid you’re going to rip it out.
    It doesn’t last long, though. Suddenly, your whole body grows still. I keep moving my hands and tongue against you. Then, you’re shuddering violently. You release the fistfuls of hair. Glancing up, I can see you grab and squeeze the table. I keep licking you, tasting you, loving you as you tremble beneath me.
    Eventually , your legs stop shuddering, and you lower yourself back onto your seat. Very gently, I kiss your clit. I slide my tongue over all your sex trying to memorize all of you, your scent, your shape, the powerful and all-consuming way you come.
    I pull myself away, grab a fresh handkerchief and wipe your sex and the insides of your thighs.
    After I’ve gotten you back into your hosiery, I pull a postcard from my bag and write, “Is it safe for me to come up?” I lay the card and a pen on your lap.
    “No,” you write, “there’s a family two tables away. They’re finishing up, though.”
    Below that, you’ve written your cell phone number. I let out a deep sigh, grab your leg and kiss you again.

C hapter VIII: Staged Love
     
     
    Olivia reached into her yoga bag and pulled out a silver thumb drive. She laid it on the metal table with a click and slid it toward Charlotte.
    “I got you something,” Olivia said. The two women sat on the patio outside Panera drinking coffee and picking at pastries. They were both in their yoga clothes, but thankfully, it was one of those off hours at the Greene, a posh outdoor shopping center. Few cars drove by and the women had the patio to themselves — almost to themselves anyway. A