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deliciously lewd he wanted her to be. It was outrageous, but she complied happily, reaching down and prizing apart the curls and outer lips of her womanhood.
    “Very good…excellent,” pronounced Ethan as he dove straight in.
    The contact was exquisite, unusual, both what she’d expected and somehow quite different. Moisture met moisture. She was wet and so was Ethan’s tongue. It slid against her in a first long, sleek glide, and then seemed to end in a tiny flick of her trembling pearl that made her shout.
    “Oh yes! Yes! More!”
    With a laugh against her flesh that almost made her faint, Ethan complied and set about his task with his characteristic thoroughness, a quality which was rapidly becoming familiar.
    He licked, he flicked, he dawdled, he darted. Sometimes he tormented her with lingering leisurely strokes; sometimes he attacked with swift, hard, almost relentless stabs that set her heels drumming and kicking against his back. He feasted on her like the most opulent and succulent meal, making lusty sounds of appreciation directly into her puss, exhalations that became caresses in themselves as he uttered them.
    Holding her bottom tightly, he would not let her go, even when the stimulation became too great and she spent furiously, squirming and squealing. He pushed her onward, ever onward, driving her to the peak again and again with his nimble tongue, until she was barely conscious and her body was streamed with perspiration.
    “Please…have mercy…I cannot…” she gasped, with no strength left to complete the sentence and no mind left to remember what she wanted to say.
    “My darling,” he murmured against her, then set his tongue lightly and still, right on her pearl, as if to soothe and gentle her through the final searing crisis.
    Spent, more spent than she could ever have imagined it possible to be, Lucy just lay there for a long time, her legs still flung over Ethan’s shoulders. He rested with his cheek pressed against her pubic curls, his lips quiescent against her thigh.
    “I thought you said you were inexperienced?” she enquired when her own tongue would function properly again and form a proper sentence. “I fear you must have been misleading me…. You’re a proper virtuoso in that activity at least.”
    She looked down across her body at him, as he looked up. “I swear on your gorgeous puss that I’m not a Lothario and have relatively little pedigree as a lover.” He pressed a quick, chaste kiss against her sticky curls. “It’s just you, dear Miss Dawson, who inspires me. Your sensuous beauty rouses my instinct to give pleasure.”
    Lucy laughed, but this time, she didn’t attempt contradict him. She felt beautiful. She was beautiful. It seemed that Ethan had also rescued her from her own perceptions, as well as a muddy ditch, and even if her looks were not in the classic mode, she had a particular charm all of her own.
    After all, he surely wouldn’t be able to perform so enthusiastically between the sheets—and elsewhere—with a woman whose looks didn’t appeal to him. Even if she knew precious little else about Ethan, her every instinct told her he was scrupulously honest.
    Ethan nodded, as if he’d heard her thoughts. “I’m glad you’ve decided to accept the fact that you are lovely.”
    “Yes, I’m completely resigned to the fact now. I’m adorable. I simply need new spectacles, to see what I didn’t see before.”
    He rose between her legs, beautiful and graceful—and spectacularly aroused.
    “Again?”
    “Yes, again…if you can take it?”
    Astonishingly, she could. The portions of her anatomy that she’d believed thoroughly sated, at least for the time being, were suddenly needful again. Her puss almost rippled of its own accord when Ethan took his mighty cock in hand and gave it an experimental frisk. “Of course, I could deal with myself, if you’re too tired, my sweet. I know it’s frowned upon in many quarters, but I’ve always found