Friday Afternoon Read Online Free

instant, the moment is gone as if this was a piece of business that’s been taken care of and now he’s moving on.
    He kisses me again, and when he breaks the kiss and lifts away from me, he asks, “Are you ready?” Not waiting for an answer, he stands up and offers a hand.
    I smile up at him. “This feels weird.”
    “Not for long.” His voice is a sexy rumble of promise that goes perfectly with the sinful thoughts reflected in his eyes.
    I’m a little nervous when he pulls me up from my seat and leads me to the bedroom. Even though the girls aren’t due home from school for another two hours, I close and lock the door behind me.
    It’s ridiculous, but I’m self-conscious when he unbuttons my blouse at a maddeningly slow pace. So deliberately, he teases my clothes away, like it was our first time together. Then I watch him as he removes his own. And maybe for the first time in years, I look at him too.
    To me, Levi’s body has always been a thing of beauty, and it still is. His skin tone is darker, giving the lean lines of his body a welcoming palate of tans and shadow to differentiate the planes of his muscle underneath.
    When we’re both finally nude and facing each other, he grabs my wrist and tugs me toward him. He looks into my eyes with serious intensity “ Mi amore .”
    I smile at the term of endearment he used to call me in the beginning. He picked it up from the Adams Family movie years ago and usually combined it with kisses trailing up my arm, like Gomez. He hasn’t used it in so long. It seems like it has only taken ten minutes of making out to take us to that place again.
    The part of my soul that wants, more than anything, to please him blooms.
    I fall to my knees in front of him, grasping his cock and taking satisfaction from the firm hand tangled in my hair, ultimately controlling my head.
    “Mia,” he rasps and then groans as I lean into him to bestow some teasing attention with the flat of my tongue to the long underside of his cock before taking it into my mouth. I take as much of him in as I’m able. The smell of him takes me to an earlier place in time, an exciting, passionate place. I revel in the sensory flashback feeding my own arousal.
    His grip tightens in my hair when the tentative, teasing swipes of my tongue transform to throat deep penetration. God, I forgot how much I loved giving him head, how much fulfillment I get from making him moan.
    Slowly his hips flex and relax as he strokes in and out of my mouth. Cupping, and then gently rolling his balls in my free hand, I intensify my efforts. My need to please him strikes with a vengeance, hot and fast, like lightning. As I revel in the sensations provided by his flesh filling my mouth, rubbing against my tongue, butting the back of my throat, the only word I can think of to explain the need I feel is starvation. I’m starving for everything this act gives me. My emotional grid explodes with the need to show him my intense feelings of love and dedication that can never truly be expressed with mere words.
    Then, suddenly, his grip in my hair tightens. He pulls my head away.
    “Slow down, babe. We’ve got time.”
    I look up at him, desperate to continue. I want to make him fall in love with me again. I want to feel the intimacy of swallowing his release. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
    The look of surprise followed by the spark of desire flashing in his eyes tells me the words he’s going to say before they pass through his lips.
    “And I want to come in your mouth. I fucking want it more than my next breath.” He takes my hand, lifting me up from my knees, and leads me to the bed. “Climb in.”
    I do, lying down on my back. I have a flash of fear we’re going to go back to the taking turns pattern of coming we’ve gotten hung up on over the past few years. He nudges my legs apart and kneels between them. But instead of going down on me like I expect, he covers my body with his. We fit together so well. Always