Plans for tonight? Ya, skip em.  We've got something in mind that's hotter (and much more friendly on your bank account)  The following is an excerpt from "Marie" by Anne Simon and the full story is available for download for free from Fleshbot Fiction.  Pretty hot and tempting, eh?

He rubbed her cheek against his jeans, against his cock through his jeans. He flexed his hips against her face. Then she bent over his feet again, this time removing his socks. The skin on his ankles, where the hair on his legs faded away, was soft and pale. His leg hair was reddish. His feet were warm and groomed. His ankle looked pale against her darker fingers, like he got all his sunshine while wearing shoes.

She stood up and removed her jeans now. He continued to stand there, looking at her again. She shimmied out of her jeans, her hands fumbling. She walked backwards into the room, white bra and white panties. He continued to stand there in the doorway, fully dressed but barefoot. She lay back on the fresh white cotton duvet on that big high bed.

He followed her then, quick and feral as he pounced on her, rubbing his face against her neck again and kneeling over her on the bed. His big, heavy body moved over hers and his jeans were rough on her thighs. He tangled his hand roughly in her hair, groaning as he licked at her shoulder and neck. His other hand slid across her stomach, up to her breasts. He cupped one, almost roughly, then the other. He bit her nipples through the cotton of her bra. She could hear her own sounds, breathless and incoherent as she scrabbled at his shirt, trying to lift it up and find the skin of his back. As his teeth closed around her nipple again and his thigh pressed up against the soaked crotch of her panties she gave up and gripped his back with flattened hands, pulling him close.

Could she possibly climax from this? From his teeth at her bra and his hard thigh at her pussy? She felt it close, felt that insane desperation as she arched and heaved against him. He pulled her hair and pressed his mouth on hers; she could taste that wheat beer as he moaned against her mouth and that was it, over, she was grunting into his mouth as instinct took over, bowing her body, grinding her up against that thick, unyielding thigh between her legs. As the initial shudders were winding down she opened her eyes. He had pulled back, was laying beside her on the bed, propping himself up on one elbow. That same smug look was back on his face. Not the real smile, but the smirk. One of his hands was still stroking her breast. She looked down at her body, splayed and vulnerable. There were wet spots from his mouth on her bra. She swallowed and felt her face burning.


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