Page 40 of Four Cards Exposed

James thought he’d died and gone to heaven. His cock tightened behind the waist band of his shorts, looking for a way out. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the high, round, brown-tipped globes, until she leaned back on the bed and he saw the way her hands were heading—down to the button of her jeans shorts. She undid the button and the tiny zipper in an instant, and shoved them down.

Her fishnet tights shifted against her skin, and it was then James saw the marks on her smooth skin where the tights had pressed tight against her thighs.

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Not the sexiest thing to take off, huh,” she replied, shimmying the waistband down below her hips, leaving her clad in only the tiniest black thong.

“You’re hurt,” he stated. He felt his cock deflate.

She looked down at herself, a look of surprise on her face. Then her mouth opened in recognition. “These marks, you mean?” she asked, rubbing her hand up and down her golden skin. “They’ll go away in a few minutes.”

“Moore should try wearing these himself, if he likes them so much,” James grumbled, taking over from her. The marks were worse around the thicker, more muscular part of her thighs, and almost invisible along her calves.

His large hands kneaded her flesh. After a few moments, she relaxed, moaning into his touch. His cock responded to the small sound.

“Turn around,” he said gruffly. He wanted to take any and all pain away. “Let me give you a massage.”

Susan lay on the bed, angling her face sideways towards him. Her long dark hair floated around her heart-shaped face.

He positioned himself on his knees at the side of the bed and started with her feet. He placed his palms on either side of her left foot, gently twisting the right side of the foot forward while pushing back on the left side, repeating the twisting motion from the ankle all the way to the toes and back again. Then the same to the other foot.

He went back to the first foot, placing his hands around the sides of the foot, his thumbs stretched over the top. He pulled firmly outwards, allowing the foot to spread to its natural width after being restricted by the heels for so long.

Susan groaned, relaxing into his touch. “That feels … amazing,” she whispered.

He moved quietly to her other foot.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

The way she was lying, he could only see one of her eyes, but there was no mistaking the slow, sly grin spreading on her face.

“My calves may need a bit of the same attention,” she said.

Smiling, James moved up her strong, shapely calves. He already knew Susan was a runner, wondered what other sports she did to keep in this kind of shape. He moved up to her thighs, where the grid-shaped blotches were most evident, firmly kneading her flesh.

Her soft sighs and moans filled the room. Slowly, her thighs fell open. His hands faltered, his attention going to the space still hidden by the thong.

His hand shook against the thin black strap covering her hip.

Susan’s upper body came up, then, her elbows resting on his pillow. “Is my thong in the way, James?”

He nodded. He placed his hands on either side of her hips. He wanted to be gentle, and he wanted to fucking rip it off her. He chose gentle, because she deserved care and gentleness, and he would die before he hurt her.

The black material stuck to her body for an instant. When he pulled it away, the fabric glistened with her juices.

“You’re so wet,” he said. His finger moved towards her core.

“Lose your clothes first,” she demanded. She made no attempt to hide herself from his gaze, but moved out of his reach, turning so she was on her back. “It’s my turn to look.”

Jesus.

He’d never been as turned on as he was at that moment.

James lost his T-shirt first. The pain in his ribs barely registered—everything had shifted south, so the only thing he felt was the pulsing of his cock against the waistband of his shorts.

“Keep going,” she said, her eyes hooded. One small hand, resting on her hip, moved sideways, almost as if she were going to—

She’s touching herself.