December 11th

Check out the sexy snippet below by Tracy Podger and continue your enjoyment by reading the full story!

“The Facilitator”

He closed the gap between us, using his hand to lift my chin until I was looking up at him. He leaned down slightly, and I closed my eyes, wetting my lips. I expected to feel his on mine but he gently ghosted them across my jaw, tilting my head to give him access to my neck. The feel of his lips on my skin, his breath as it tickled, had all but caused my legs to give way. I reached up and gripped the lapels of his jacket, simply to steady myself.
I felt his lips curl into a smile; he was pleased with my response. He placed small kisses down my neck, pulling the collar of my shirt away. Then he trailed his tongue back up to my jaw.
He stepped away and that action caused me to open my eyes quickly.
Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket. “I’m enjoying the taste of you,” he said.
I couldn’t find the words to answer that. Yet again, I was taken aback.
“Undo your shirt,” he said.
I raised my hands, trying hard to disguise the shake, and unbuttoned.
“Slower,” he said.
I kept eye contact as I did what he’d requested. When I’d undone all the buttons, I let my arms fall to my sides. I watched as he loosened his tie, pulling it through his collar. He rolled it around his hand before stepping back towards me and placing it next to his glass.
He trailed his fingers down either side of my neck, across my chest, and parted my shirt. I watched him lick his lips as he stared at my breasts. There was something very carnal in what he did, and it had my stomach clenching further. He pushed the shirt from my shoulders until it fell to the floor.
Goosebumps raised my skin, following the path his fingers made as he very gently ran them across the cups of my bra. He reached around and unclipped it, sliding the straps from my shoulders. Everything he did, every movement he made, was controlled: measured to elicit the desired response. I swallowed hard, convinced that he’d heard me.
I opened my mouth to speak; the silence was beginning to overwhelm me. Before I could, he placed one finger over my lips.
“Shush,” he said. “No talking, just feel.”
He reached for his whiskey and dipped his finger in the glass; he then ran that finger over my lips. Before I had a chance to catch the drip, he’d placed his hands in my hair on either side of my face and kissed me. No, he devoured my mouth. It was as if his kiss had sucked the air from my lungs. His tongue took control of mine; his hands gripped my hair. I clung to him, my hands fisted his shirt. I couldn’t stop the moan that seemed to have risen from the depths of my stomach, leaving my mouth.

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