...The kiss had a little bit of everything in it. Soon he was taking me places I hadn’t realized I could go with a mere meeting of the lips. I was starting to see stars and not only from the excellent kissing Indy was giving me.

As talented as his mouth was, his hands were equally skilled. He caressed my breasts with the intuition of a long-time lover, knowing the right spot to touch and the exact pressure to stoke my fire hotter. My breasts were feeling full and the nipples were tightening. I wondered if he would suckle me again and if I had the words to tell him how much I wanted to feel his mouth on me.

“Would you like me to suck you here?” he asked. His fingers trailed lightly over the top of my boob and then hovered over my nipple.

I took in a breath, but couldn’t remember if I exhaled. I was afraid any movement on my part would keep him from tweaking me and I wanted that more than anything.

If Indy was reading my thoughts, he was ignoring the imploring and needy ones racing like androids on pure raw coffee beans, the natural kind outlawed because it was an endangered plant species. I could feel the heat from his skin. I wanted to feel him rubbing my nipples, pinching them…hell, I’d take anything he wanted to give me at this point.

Now his palm moved in a circular motion. It was like he was the pole and I was its magnet. My nipple swelled and I could feel the skin on my breast stretching to accommodate it. My heart was pumping wildly, but it felt like I had thick rocket-booster fuel rather than blood moving through my veins. At the same time, the area he was touching felt on fire and every other inch of my skin was crying in frustrated desire.

“You’re so responsive,” he murmured.

Only with you, I thought, but all my nerves were busy screaming with delight at his touch so I was unable to voice it. His lips came back to mine. I felt like I had been left starving and without water in the desert for eons. The only sustenance I needed was coming from his lips and tongue and teeth. And Indy was a master with all those tools.

His tongue enticed mine to join a dance that was playful yet stimulating, lazy and predatory, sensuous and sensual. Just when I relaxed enough to enjoy all six sensations inside my mouth, he changed tactics, slanting his lips and forcing my nerves to bump and jolt to a different angle. Before I had time to allow my frazzled senses to adjust to that, he shifted. I felt his hard length slide into me, a centimeter at a time.

“Ah…” I sighed, tightening my inner muscles to prolong the pleasure. The water and his hands were holding me up, which was a good thing because my legs felt like soy noodles.

“Damn, that feels good,” he said. His voice was a little more breathy than usual.

Good. I was hoping that meant he was as turned on as I was. Frankly, I don’t know if I could have even forced that many words out at this point. He was only a few centimeters inside my pussy and I couldn’t believe how full I was already feeling. Indy was a master of delayed satisfaction, but I was quickly losing patience. I ground my hipbones against him in an attempt to get more of him, deeper, faster. He laughed, which turned to a groan when I locked my lips on his and let my tongue be the aggressor, pushing inside his mouth and tangling with his. My aggressiveness on his mouth caused me to push up with my legs. I moaned a little in frustration as the movement allowed him to slide out of me.

But I discovered a great new thigh exercise when I let myself fall back on him, implanting his rod to the hilt. I paused then because, truthfully, something that felt this good should be celebrated with more than a gasp. I mean, I didn’t want to gush, except I was gushing from my pussy as my orgasm sucked me in like the tide rolling out after a tsunami. There was no stopping it. The only thing better would have been if he’d been coming with me. He wasn’t, and I would have felt bad except all I could feel was delight at the emotions overwhelming me.