Ritual

A soft, beautiful ass displayed upon Monica’s lap. What more could Monica want from an evening ritual? Like clockwork, like chemistry—a bare, bare bottom, right there, for her.

      The panties, rolled down by Monica’s trembling hands, hovered three inches below the ass line, bookmarking Claudia’s thighs. The jeans were out of the picture. The hem of Claudia’s shirt, still teasing at the small of her back, was in Monica’s peripheral vision; but it may as well have been a mile away.

      Because it was all about the cheeks: cheeks that waited to be squeezed, patted, fondled, and smooched . . . jiggled, slapped, tickled, and licked . . . pressed, praised, stroked, studied, and celebrated.

      Adored.

      Monica was already wet, and she knew that hers was not the only moist pussy in town. In fact, arousal was literally in the air—she could smell Claudia’s hunger. Soon, she would reach in and let her finger taste and feed that hunger.

      But first, to worship this display. As was traditional, she bent to kiss it with a lustful reverence, inaugurating her intimacy with the rich meal of flesh. Her clit tingled and her thighs began to bounce, and she became mesmerized, as always, by the soft sway of Claudia’s bottom atop her waves. With gentle claps, she began to meet the cheeks on the upbeats of their rhythmic dance. Then she grabbed them, holding on for dear life . . . her lips teasing the crack, her fingers playing her lover’s ass like a piano.

Want more Jeremy Edwards? Visit his home on the web at Jeremy Edwards – Author of Erotic Fiction or go straight to grab a copy of his latest erotic novel “Rock My Socks Off” at either Waterstones.com or Xcitebooks.com

Where The Boys Aren't 4: Clip 4