Free Hassidic Passion by Jayde Blumenthal Page B

hotter than anything a Bais Yaakov girl should probably own.  Yet perfectly appropriate, he thought, for any woman who was going to be his wife and regular bed partner.  Boy, did he hope this was going to be a regular thing.
    Was it his imagination, or was there a small damp shadow on the fabric of her panties?
    No, it wasn’t, he saw, as she spread her legs and straddled him on the bed.  Panties still on, she thrust her sex parts onto him, rubbing against him with a desperation that – he suddenly realized for the first time – clearly mirrored his own.
    She wanted him.
    She was desperate for him.
    She was hungry for him, thirsty for him.
    That was why she’d rammed his cock into her mouth in the first place.  Not out of some kind of sense of obligation… but because she couldn’t get enough of him.
    Of course, he’d gone and ruined it, but perhaps he could make it up to her now.
    The dampness on her panties had spread, and even on the outside, the fabric glistened with her juices.  He reached up to her hips and pulled them down, just as she’d done with his.
    Of course, he couldn’t pull them all the way down because she was still straddling him.  So he sat up, and pushed her ge ntly down onto the bed.
    Holding her legs together, he slid the panties all the way off.  Their crotch was gleaming with her moisture, and he knew what he had to do:  go straight to the source.
    Parting her smooth legs, he saw where the wetness was coming from immediately.  Her pussy was startlingly pink, but for once, he was grateful for all the pornography he’d soaked up in his lifetime.
    It was time to step up to the plate, and Beryl knew exactly what to do.
    Stroking around her wetness first, experimentally, with his fingers, Beryl heard her moan and knew he was on the right track. 
    H e dived in with his mouth.  There was no other way to think of it; just diving into her sea of wetness.  Her cunt lips spread apart, shiny and pink in the dim bedside-table light.  She opened herself wide to him and he splayed his tongue against her.
    She tasted tangy, meaty, but there was something else here, too. Something raw and primal, like a taste he’d experienced once and forgotten.
    “Mmm…” that was her, but he moaned along with her.
    “Mmm…” and the buzzing of his mouth traveled through her body.  She spread her legs, letting her knees fall backwards onto the bed, and her pussy opened up as wide as it could possibly open.
    It gleamed with her wetness, and his saliva.
    As he licked her more and more roughly, she arched her back.  Those weren’t moans anymore.  They were groans – of pleasure, he knew. 
    She reached down and grabbed his head, tugging his sweaty hair at the root and gently sliding him forward.  Just a notch forward, where his tongue found what must have been her sweet spot, a delicious little button. 
    H er groaning was non-stop now, uncontrollable.
    Her whole body shuddered.  He reached up to stroke her belly and, for the first time, her breasts.  Her skin was slippery with sweat, as he supposed his must be, too.  His face was smeared with her juices and he wished he could dive in further, maybe even up to his neck.
    He couldn’t believe this was happening to him.  In all the years he’d fantasized about sex, he’d never imagined how pleasurable it could be to go down on a woman.  On his wife; licking her, eating her out.  Pulling her down to the very depths of animal pleasure.
    I f you’d asked him two days ago how to make a woman come, he wouldn’t have had the foggiest clue.  But now, he did it.  Or rather, she did it.  She came.
    He felt it before it happened.  Her body vibrated faster and faster.  He thought of an express train crashing through a st ation without stopping – first, a distant rumble, louder and faster and faster until, with a crash , it passed and was gone.
    “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she muttered over and over, shoving her