Free The Dancing Master (Stolen Moments) by Paris Alexander Page B

my
pantaloons?"
    And if her father should catch them, he was as good as dead.   The man would run him through for taking such
liberties with his daughter.   But he could not help himself.   The devil on his shoulder made him
continue.   "Yes.   Definitely.   Take them off."
    "If you say so."   Her voice was doubtful, but
still she reached under her skirts and undid the ties that help her pantaloons
together, letting them fall at her feet.   She kicked them out of the way and lifted her skirts back up.   "Can you see better now?"
    He wasn't sure if he
was in heaven or in hell.   Yes, he could
see just fine.   He could see
everything.   Including
that little triangle of hair at the apex of her thighs, the hair that hid her
treasure.
    As he looked at her, she shifted a little, her
thighs moving slightly apart.   Yes, that
was even better.   Now he could see her
nether lips, pink and glistening with moisture.   She wanted him, too, though she might not realize just how much her body
was betraying her secrets.   He let out an
audible groan.  
    She shifted again, her thighs closing just a
fraction, hiding herself again.   "Are you perfectly well?"
    "Perfectly."
    "It's just that you sounded as if you were
in pain."
    His gaze flew to her face.   Was she really that innocent or was she teasing him on purpose?   Whichever it was, it hardly mattered to him anymore.   What mattered was the sight of her naked
mound and his desire to own her, to possess her, and to fuck
her until they both passed out from pleasure.
    He rose to his feet, too her by the arm and led
her to a sofa.   "Sit down.   It will make it easier for us both while I
inspect the rest of your legs."
    Obediently she sat down and slouched against
the back of the sofa.   "Are you sure
you know what you are looking for?"
    He lifted her skirts until she was naked to the
waist.   "Oh yes, I am quite
sure."
    She leaned back on the sofa and closed her
eyes.   "I do hope there is nothing
seriously wrong with my legs.   I really would like to be able to dance properly
with you."
    He would settle for dancing most improperly
with her.   They would be dancing the
shaking of the sheets together soon enough, if he had his way.   She would be perfectly adept at that kind of dancing, he was sure.
    Her thighs were milky white and soft, and the
patch of golden brown hair covering her mound glistened in the afternoon
sunshine.   With one hand he nudged her legs apart so he could see her better.
    Her lips were pink and beaded with moisture and
he watched, fascinated, as a drop of her womanly juices formed, grew bigger,
and slowly trickled down onto the sofa.   His mouth watered to taste her, to lick her pussy until she came with a
rush.
    Soon.   He would taste her soon.
    He placed his hands on her thighs in the
pretense of examining them.   "You
have beautiful legs," he murmured as he caressed her.   "There is nothing wrong with them at
all."
    A dreamy expression floated over her face as
his hands crept higher and then, daringly, brushed her mound of curls.   " Mmmmm ."   Her whisper of need was so soft he barely
heard it, but the noise went to his groin in an instant.   Her soft sound of desire had him almost
coming in his breeches.   He grabbed his
cock through the material, the touch of his hands on his shaft helping him to
retain control.
    Yes, he would come soon, he promised
himself.   But not yet.   Not until Susanna was
writhing under him in delight and screaming out his name in pleasure.
    He knelt between her thighs then, pushing them
further apart.   Without another word, he
buried his face in her pussy, needing to have her as mindless for desire as he
was.
    She sat up straight with surprise at the touch
of his mouth on her nether lips.   "Nigel.   What are you doing?"    But her voice was
husky with desire and she made no move to push him away.
    He lifted his head.   "Kissing you," he said briefly, and
then pushed her back down on to the