Page 62 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
There were moments in your life where you wished you could have an out-of-body experience and see everything you were going through from above.Thiswas one of those moments. I was slightly drunk, but I knew what was happening was odd, not normal, not something I’d read in one of my romance novels.
Usually, when the man and woman began their sexual encounter, it was more romantic, more smooth, more hot and heavy but right now, I felt like I was conducting a science experience.The things I do for research. Delaney will be proud of me.
Going with the flow, I straddled his legs and leaned forward so I could inspect his penis a little closer. If he thought what I was doing was weird, then I would blame it on the booze, but from the way he stroked himself and continued to grow, he didn’t care what I was doing.
“Rosie, the way you look at me, it’s too much . . . and your cleavage . . . it’s just spectacular.”
I looked down and saw I was giving him a great view of the ladies and frankly, I didn’t care.
I lowered my head even farther and surprisingly, licked him. I’d been going for the side of his penis but missed and licked his leg. Damn margarita.
His chest heaved from the one lick. What possessed me to do so, I would never know, but I liked the way he reacted, so I licked him again but on the other leg, like I was trying to lick an ice cream cone.
“Oh bonita, you tease me.”
Was I teasing him? I wasn’t quite sure. I thought about taking him in my mouth, but his hand was still wrapped around his cock, mostly at the head, so I decided to work the base of his penis but was stopped by his hand that was now pumping harder. I stuck my tongue out again and licked his leg once more since that was my go-to licking spot, but this time, he moaned out loud and got more comfortable on the bed.
Well if anything, I was good at licking legs, something to put on the old sexual résumé.
Rosie Bloom: still had a brand new hymen but could lick a man’s leg like it was her job.
Energy filled me and a new sense of purpose ran through my mind as I eyed his entire “muse.” I was going to do this. I was going to get down and dirty. Since his stick was occupied, I decided to lick his balls.
I dipped my head down farther, eyed the fur pie staring me in the eyes, and stuck my tongue out once again. My tongue ran across the thick, coarse hair and tried to find his actual nut sac but was having a hard time with the tangled mess.
“Yes, yes, bonita. Lick my balls.”
“I twying,” I said with a mouthful of spit. Saliva ran down my tongue and into his pubic hairs, making the texture an even worse experience for me.
Licking hairy balls was just as unappealing as it sounded . . . I learned that really quick.Noted.
I pulled my tongue back in to try again—never being a quitter—and that’s when I felt a hair on my tongue. Knowing that one of Alejandro’s ball-sac pubes was on my tongue had me dry-heaving in seconds, but Alejandro didn’t notice as he put his hand on my head and pushed me back down.
“Lick my balls, bonita. Don’t tease me.”
Coughing and trying to release the hair slowly traveling to the back of my throat, I pressed my tongue out again and tried to dive down into the squirrel tail covering his balls. The combination of the hair in the back of my throat and the wet texture of his ball hairs did it.
I was gone.
I tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let up. Sweat coated my skin as I dry-heaved over my date’s hairy-covered cherries.
“I ma troll up,” I muttered as my tongue collided again with his briar patch.
“Yes, hum on them,” Alejandro said as he pushed my head down again.
My stomach revolted on me, the margarita roared with a vengeance, and in the matter of seconds, my belly convulsed and I heaved all over my date’s genitalia. Screams of horror left his mouth.
I watched as the tacos—I earlier thought delicious—covered the once-beautiful comforter and mixed into Alejandro’s lap.
Oh this was so not good.
I could almost guarantee this would be the last time I saw Alejandro.
“What is wrong with you?” Alejandro yelled as he scampered across the loft, pants around his ankles, dong flying about, and balls hanging low.
I didn’t have to answer. I didn’t need to answer. What I needed was to get the hell out of his apartment and fast. Without looking back, I grabbed my purse, slipped on my shoes, and took off for his front door.
There was no care for what I stepped on, or the way I knocked things over in my pathway to escape. All I knew was if I didn’t get out of his apartment fast enough I was going to break down right there on his floor.
