Lucio! she called out in a ragged whisper.

Ginger squirmed. God, the man knew his way around a woman! He was teasing her, nipping and licking and biting everywhere but where she needed it most. He was really, really good at this. So good it was pure torture.

Ginger heard herself groan in frustration. She imagined his dark head hovering between her thighs. She imagined the heat of his breath so close, but not close enough.

Finally! He flicked his tongue around and across her enflamed clitoris. Then he drank from her. He used his tongue and teeth and lips to pull the juices from her body, pull her soul to the brink of orgasm. Oh! He was using those strong hands to adjust her, like she was a plaything, a dollgrabbing her by the ass and pulling her toward his mouth like he was a starving man at that sexual buffet Bea had described.

Ginger's head swam with the imagesher body was the overflowing smorgasbord of lust and Lucio had already paid at the door. She wanted to feed him. He was a hungry man. Everyone wins!

Oh God, it felt so good, so real. Her hands fell away from her body, yet, somehow, the sensations continued to build. She imagined in detail how it would feelshe would reach for his long, thick hair, grabbing silky fistfuls as she pulled him tighter to her pussy.

That's right. Pussy. She never used that word. It was sordid, somehow. Daring. But wasn't that the whole point of a daringly sordid fantasy? So she let the word pulse through her. She was nothing but a lonely, dripping, needy pussy. And it was only for him. She was his pussy. Somewhere deep inside her she knew that she'd always belonged to him and only him, the sexual panther of the shadows.

This is your pussy, Lucio, she whispered. It belongs to you.

Suddenly, she threw her legs around his neck and convulsed wildly, the orgasm so deep and strong that it shot her into a swirling, black nothingness, then launched her back to consciousness with a flare of bright white light. Her body twitched and burned in exquisite pleasure. Her eyes flew open, and her vision was filled with the night sky and what was either the aurora borealis or one hell of a long, drawn-out orgasm.