Bubbles and Troubles Read Online Free

“You’ve got the all-clear to share my bed, mister. Hope you appreciate the honour. You’re the only male who’s been here since I moved in five years ago.” She took a quick bathroom break, washed her face, brushed her teeth, then climbed into bed.
    It seemed that as soon as her eyes closed, her dream was back, clearer than ever.
    Once more, she was in the depths of the woods. He was inside her, pummelling her cunt with that fat cock of his. He had his hands in her hair, around her waist, caressing her breasts, and she pumped her rear against him in approval.
    In a sudden motion, he yanked his shaft from her and whipped her onto her back. Carmen cried out in surprise then moaned in delight. He buried his head between her thighs and parted her folds with his tongue. Carmen lowered her hands to his head. His hair was silky, lush and thick between her fingers. “Fuck, yes,” she whispered. He lapped her clit delicately, and Carmen’s nipples puckered in response. His hair was so exquisitely soft, it felt almost like fur as it grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Carmen ran her palms over it, loving the cool, silky feel of his locks and the clever, wet attention from his mouth.
    His hands moved to her thighs and yanked them farther apart. The dry leaves and twigs under her ass crunched. Her muscles protested the deep split stretch, but she relished the burn. Oh, God, he was touching her again. He slid strong, thick fingers over the crumpled, wet lips of her pussy as Carmen whimpered, impatient for more. His fingertips found the opening to her cunt and slowly, slowly, slowly eased inside.
    With his tongue skidding over her swollen clitoris, he unhurriedly fucked her with first one, then two long digits. Carmen arched and bucked against his hand and mouth, urging him to go faster and deeper and harder, but he seemed to be in no rush whatsoever.
    She fisted her hands in his hair in desperation and pulled his face tighter to her crotch. “Do it,” she begged roughly. “Make me come again.” Carmen cried out when he wedged a third finger between her legs. Her pussy wept at the tight fit. She ground against his hand mindlessly, her body twisting and undulating of its own accord.
    She realised with a smile what her dream lover’s hair reminded her of. So luxuriantly soft and thick, and unbelievably silky…
    Carmen’s eyes flew open in alarm. The room was dark, but enough moonglow filtered through the window that she could see her own spread knees on the bed. She reached tentatively between them, her heart thumping, and felt that unmistakable soft fur.
    “Oh my God!” she squeaked. “Kitty! No! Bad kitty!” Carmen grabbed fistfuls of fur and yanked the randy thing up from between her legs.
    “Ow!” a deep male voice protested. “What the fuck! Ow! Let go, Carmen!”
    “Holy shit!” Carmen grabbed the sheet and scooted back against the headboard of her bed. She fumbled for the bedside lamp with one shaking hand. Click. Yellow lamplight warmed the room and exposed the naked man tangled in sheets at the foot of her bed.
    He had a tousled mane of slate-coloured hair that stood wildly on end, like that of a manga character in a comic book. The man rubbed his head, wincing, and looked up at her with accusing sapphire-blue eyes. “You didn’t have to pull my hair out,” he muttered. “It’s attached to my head, you know.”
    Carmen gaped. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever laid eyes on. His skin was the colour of buttery, molten caramel. His chest was chiselled and sharply defined, his shoulders were gloriously wide and his biceps were bulky and knotted. And oh, those abs. Carmen let her eyes wander lower. A thick erection, ringed by slate-grey curls of hair, jutted from his lap.
    She shook her head. “Am I drunk-dreaming or crazy? Who the fuck are you?” She leant forwards and lifted one trembling hand to his head. That rich, grey hair felt just like the fur of a chinchilla. Or a cat. “Are