Free Indecent...Desires by Jane O'Reilly Page A

rush. My ex-husband had always disapproved of my sweet tooth. I’ve gained half a stone since our marriage ended, and it occurs to me now that I like the way it feels.
    Behind me, I can hear the sound of Lucas slowly undressing, the rustle of fabric as it slides over skin. I’m dying to look at him, but I don’t. It is far more fun for both of us if I feign disinterest, leave him wondering what is going to happen next. If anything is going to happen next. If we are actually going to have sex at all, or if I am simply going to make him stare at my newly smooth pussy all weekend.
    I haven’t decided myself, if I’m honest. All the plans I had for this weekend fell away the minute he walked into my flat. Now, I don’t want to plan. I just want to live, to experience this, every minute of it. I spoon up some more of the ice cream. Then I part my feet slightly, arching my back so that my slit is even more exposed to him. ‘You may lick my pussy,’ I say.
    â€˜Thank you,’ he says. His voice is ragged, excited. His feet are quiet on the laminate floor, but his big hands are warm when he sinks to his knees behind me and sets about pleasing me with a determination that makes me shake. He’s so hungry for it, for me, as his hands grip my buttocks and spread them wide, allowing him greater access to my juicy flesh. I cover my tongue with another spoon of ice cream, so cold and sweet and delicious, as Lucas Brady licks into me, hot and hungry, and I wonder how I ever thought I could be happy with anything less than this.
    Because the truth of it is that I am happy. And realising that makes it clear that I have been unhappy for a very, very long time. I know all the reasons why he is wrong for me – he is too young, too beautiful to want to be tied down to a woman so much older than him, a woman with a ticking biological clock, but right now I can’t bring myself to care.
    I arch my back some more, pushing my pussy more firmly against his flicking tongue, then I rest my head against the work top, unable to focus on anything but the feel of him. I dig my heels into the floor as I fight to stay upright, and when I look down between my legs I can see the flat planes of his stomach, the dark hair that dusts his thighs, the fierce jut of his erect cock.
    Such a beautiful man, I think. I let him take me to completion, let him keep working at me until my hands curve into fists and punch the work top, and I swear my way through an orgasm that makes me see stars.
    â€˜I’m not done with you yet,’ I murmur, as I close my eyes and try to find some semblance of control. ‘Carry me into the bedroom.’
    That extra half a stone doesn’t seem to challenge his young, supple body. He is warm beneath my hands as I sling my arms around his neck, and he smiles down at me, a shy, eager smile. ‘Anything you want,’ he says to me, as he lowers me down onto the bed. ‘I’ll do anything you want.’
    Yes,
I think.
I know you will.
I pat the bed, and he obediently lies down next to me. ‘From now on,’ I tell him, ‘you get to come only when I say. Do you understand?’
    He nods, slowly, those dark, dark eyes sparkling. ‘What happens if I can’t control myself?’ he asks. ‘What happens if I can’t stop myself, and I come before you say I can?’
    â€˜Then you will be punished.’ I stroke a stray strand of hair away from his face. ‘I’m sure you understand what that will entail.’ I pick up my hairbrush from the side of my bed, run it carefully through his hair, neatening those messy locks. His gaze follows the movement and I have a sudden vision of him bent over the bed, backside on fire, begging me not to stop as I spank him with the back of my hairbrush.
    A shiver works through me, uncomfortable shock as I test out that new limit. It would be wrong to do that to him, wouldn’t it? But the more I think about