My hand slides down the front of her dress, into her bra, straining the fabric. I palm and knead her full breast, and a welcome moan reverberates in Kate’s throat. My fingers rub and pinch her nipple, making it harden to a perfect peak. Kate tears her mouth from mine and moves to my neck—sucking and licking—nipping the sensitive skin with her teeth. Making me weak in the f**king knees.
I switch gears and slide my hands up her thighs, bunching her dress above her waist. Then I kneel down and pause for just a moment to appreciate the sight of her exquisitely smooth snatch.
Panting hard, Kate tries to cover her stomach with her hands. “I know I’m not—”
“Don’t f**king finish that sentence.” I grab her wrists, holding them away from her body.
Pregnancy is a strange experience for women. So many fast-paced changes—mentally, emotionally, physically. And, no, Kate doesn’t look exactly as she did before. But only a total ass**le would expect her to.
Only the eminent ruler of all ass**les would care.
“You made a person, Kate. A perfectly amazing person.” Then I look up into her eyes and tell her honestly, “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now.”
A smile tugs at her flushed lips. I release her wrists, lean forward, and press my mouth against the soft flesh of her pu**y.
Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you.
I spread her with my fingers and delve in deep. She’s hot on my tongue—already wet—and sweeter than chocolate frigging cake. I cup her ass in my hands, pressing her forward, and revel in the taste of her. My eyes roll back in my head as Kate moans and gasps above me. Her fingernails cut into my shoulder blades, and after only a minute she’s begging.
“Please, Drew . . . I need you inside me. I need to feel you now.”
Unwilling to deny her and incapable of it, I lap at her one last time and stand. I cover her lips with mine and back us up to the wall of the building. As I caress her tits, Kate slips my pants and boxers down my hips.
She takes my straining c**k in her hands, pumping it firmly and slowly.
I groan into her mouth.
Then I lift her, cushioning the back of her head with one hand, so it doesn’t smack against the bricks. My other arm is under her ass, holding her up. Kate locks her ankles together at my lower back, then guides my dick home.
I don’t wait. Waiting is just not possible. I plunge into her roughly, deeply.
“Drew . . . ,” she sighs.
Kate’s wet inner walls stretch around me, still blissfully f**king snug. Buried fully, I savor the sensation of being inside her again. Being surrounded and held by intense, hot perfection.
I whisper the only word that matters. “Kate . . .”
Her legs pull me closer, knees squeezing tighter. I do what we’re both craving.
Slowly, my h*ps pull back. Kate’s cunt grips my c**k spectacularly as it slides from her.
“You feel like f**king heaven,” I moan.
Then I thrust forward hard, rubbing her cl*t with my pelvis, making sure she’s feeling the same blinding pleasure I am. I keep that pace—slow, rough strokes that make Kate purr every time our bodies collide.
Her eyes close and her mouth finds mine.
We’re gasping and moaning, gripping and pulsing—drowning in fantastic friction. With her cheek pressed against mine, Kate pants, “Oh, God . . . oh, God, Drew, I’m going to come.”
My h*ps quicken, needing to feel her contracting around me more than I need air to breathe. “Fuck yes, come, baby. Let me feel you come hard.”
Then she is. Her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, constrict and tighten. Kate’s pu**y squeezes my c**k in a primal, uncontrollable rhythm that pulls me deeper inside her. I push and surge forward one last time, until I rise into the stratosphere with her. It’s so f**king good, so intense, for several long, exquisite moments the only sound I can hear is the rush of our ecstasy pounding in my ears.
Minutes later, I’m still breathing deep against Kate’s neck, and she continues to tremble with aftershocks. Still inside her, I lift my head and brush her hair from her face.
“That was awesome.”
She smiles wide. “Mind-blowing.”
Carefully, I set her feet back on solid ground. Then I help smooth her dress back into place and tuck myself in and zip up. “And we still have a whole suite waiting for us.”
“Take me to my suite.” Kate holds out her hand.
I take it. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
Back out on the sidewalk, the fog of lust clears and Kate puts the hand I’m not holding over her eyes. “I can’t believe we had sex in an alley.”
I snort. “I can’t believe we waited so long to have sex in an alley. What was I thinking?”
That’s an activity that’s definitely going on my repeat list.
Is alley-screwing respectful? Generally . . . no. But in this case, it was just what the doctor ordered.
Now, back to our card game.
Jack turns to Steven. “What do you say, Reinhart—you and me and two of the most flexible ladies in the club?”
“Alexandra would rip my head off if I got a lap dance—private or otherwise,” Steven laments.
Matthew grins. “Delores would be into it—but only if she got to watch.”
Steven shakes his head. “I don’t want to give her another reason to be pissed at me.”
Matthew chuckles. “But that’s the way it works, man. Dee-Dee’s happier when I’m messing up—gives her an excuse to yell at me. She feels needed, and it makes me appreciate how lucky I am to have her. For men and women—that’s the circle of life.”
Steven considers the idea but still tells Jack, “I don’t think married men belong in a private booth. If I want a strip show, I’ll buy my wife pole-dancing lessons.” His face brightens. “In fact—that’s gonna be her Mother’s Day gift. Boom—scratch that off the list.”
At first I frown at the visual imagery . . . but then get over it and smile. Because I know exactly what to get Kate for my birthday.
After Warren emerged from the private booth looking dazed and satisfied—and walking stiffly because he most likely jizzed in his pants—we all sat down front row at the main stage to enjoy another show. This time without my participation. It was a girl-power-themed production, meaning three girls and a variety of battery-powered toys. A show like that is guaranteed to make any man hope for an encore.