Free Crush by Cecile de la Baume Page A

reestablished his self-control the moment he left the bedroom.
    She got up, feigning interest in the poster, and put her hand on the fold of his fly. David grew still, questioned her with his eyes. Amélie put on a candid air:
    —Your health is my only concern, my love. I’m checking out your vigor.
    She clasped the contours of his penis with her fingers, stroking it to assess its hardness, fingers on the prowl for any positive feedback. David scolded her, amused, yet upset at the prospect of his imminent meeting.
    —Now look what you’ve done! I’ve got a hard-on. Amélie, you are impossible!
    Fueled by David’s scrupulousness, the incongruity of their surroundings, the possible interruption by a secretary, Amélie acted as if her blind gropings were far from responsible for the bulge threatening to burst the seam of his crotch:
    —But darling, I must check this out . . .
    Kneeling, she spanned the broadness of his erection with her mouth, shooting warm puffs of breath through half-opened lips along the length of his cock encased in gray twill, as if practising scales on a mouth-organ. A suddenly silent David abandoned all resistance before Amélie’s lack of faith. Obviously, she needed to feel in order to believe.
    Leading David to the edge of his desk, she propped him up facing the mirrors, presenting her provocative ass by leaning forward to pursue her delectable investigations. David relished both the impunity of contemplating Amélie riveted to his prick, and the surge of power derived from seeing her down on her knees, at work on his cock. He lolled back, watching her unbuckle his belt, pulling down the zipper of his fly.
    Amélie took her time freeing David’s cock from its white cotton prison, extricating it with joyful pleasure, rubbing it with conscientious concern so as to dispel any cramps inflicted by an awkward position. Only then did she dip charitable fingers into the tight fit of his underwear, seeking to comfort his balls after their prolonged isolation. David was already breathingheavily. Amélie lowered his underwear over his thighs, staring hungrily at his thickened prick.
    He moaned with impatience. Affecting an indifference she was far from feeling, Amélie knelt below the cock prodding at her forehead. She tasted the flavor of his balls, gathering them into her mouth with her lips, counteracting the hindrance of hi s underwear to explore the hidden folds of his flesh with the tip of her tongue. There she lingered, in the dark nook under his balls where his dick took root, fondling the secret recesses of his groin.
    When David felt her tongue glide upstream to his cock’s peak, he took a deep breath, hoping to store up self-control before she could engulf him in the sweet torture of her mouth and play havoc with his increasing excitement. He allowed himself a break, letting his eyes roam. Catching his own reflection in the mirror, buttressed against the desk by Amélie’s mouth, he watched her straining ass force her skirt to the top of her black stockings.
    —Pull up your skirt! he panted.
    Amélie seized the sides of her skirt with her fingers, bringing it above her waist. Her panties had indiscreetly slipped into the cleft of her buttocks, clinging to the wetness of her pussy.
    —Take off your panties! he ordered.
    Amélie lowered them promptly, making a show of stroking her ass. She opened her thighs, letting him glimpse the moistness trickling from her throbbing cunt.
    Inspired by her provocation, David grabbed his dick, shoving his pelvis toward her like an imperious toreador defying a brave bull.
    —Say you love my cock! he commanded.
    —Yes, it’s beautiful, big and hard, said Amélie, wetting her greedy lips with her tongue, eyes widened by lust.
    David savored Amélie’s subordination, her enticing vulnerability, and the sight of her rounded thighs nipped in by the tourniquet of her lowered panties.
    —Tell me you want to suck me, he went on.
    —Oh, yes I do! Give it to me,