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Frances looked down at Joshua as he knelt in front of her. The shining cap of his long hair melded through with shades of chocolate and butterscotch. Her hands moved to his head to sift through the satiny locks.
Her little black dress was close fitting, and she wore no underwear beneath. It would save time. With as much desire for expediency as the need to feel his mouth on her pussy, she pulled the dress over her head and tossed it aside. She shifted apart her legs, then tilted her pelvis toward the man in front of her.
"It's been a long time, Joshua. Make it good."
He lifted a brow as he looked up at her. "I know I don't have the right to ask, but how long?"
She pulled his head toward her. "You have a lot of time to make up for." She wasn't going to give him the answer he wanted. He was right. After the way he'd left her, he had no business asking.
Frances felt his breath swirl over her shaved mound. Her labia lips engorged even at the thought of feeling his mouth, his tongue, wedged deep inside. His fingers curled around her lower thighs, just above her knees and she anticipated what would come next.
His mouth. Oh, God, his wonderful mouth and that silver tongue. He eased its tip between her lips, swirling over the sensitive bud. His hands slid upward to cup her ass, drawing her closer. Her fingers twined in his hair, anchoring him to her body. She tilted her pelvis, closing her eyes, enjoying his exuberance with the devilish tongue that had provided her so much pleasure in the past.
She shuddered when he swiped over her vulnerable slit, dipping his tongue inside and twirling it over her engorged clitoris.