Laura's Solo Honeymoon - The Ice Cream Shop Boy #1 (Erotic Romance) Read Online Free Page B

down, and it'll be dark.”
    I looked back over my shoulder at the deep-red sun, which was now just a sliver.
    There was nobody else on the beach, just some specks on the horizon—specks that could have been someone walking their dog, or perhaps nothing.
    Something took me over then, and I was myself, but not myself. I pulled back away from him, climbed off, and removed my panties. I tucked them into my purse, and, instead of returning to Shawn's lap, I knelt before him.
    His manhood was already mostly free of his jeans. I grabbed him by the shaft with one hand, then leaned down and popped the head into my mouth. I may not have been confident about my sexuality, but I knew how to give a blowjob.
    His hands went to my shoulders hesitantly, as though he was trying to work up the willpower to push me away, but he then dropped his hands to his pants and shifted his clothes a little to free himself fully.
    It was too big to get all the way into my mouth, but I was able to work the shaft with one hand, pumping and squeezing, while I sucked on the head.
    After a moment of this, he was getting very hard, and his hips were moving. I sensed he was about to come, so I stopped and looked up at him, sure but unsure at the same time.
    The sun had set, and the light was now cold and blue, weak light. I could see his face easily, but all around us, darkness was rolling in.
    Still stroking him with my hand, I said, “Do you want me to finish you off with my mouth, or do you want me to sit on your lap?”
    His eyes widened. “You mean sex?”
    I kept stroking, the other hand wandering down to cup his balls. “That is what the kids are calling it these days.”
    “Come here,” he said, catching my hands and pulling them off of his cock, then pulling me down onto his lap, his cock straight up, pinched between us.
    “Hang on,” he said. “Gotta shift around.” He leaned back and swung one leg over the large log, so that he was straddling the log and I was straddling him.
    “Comfortable,” I said, rising up to make intimate contact, to kiss the head of his penis to my opening.
    I eased down onto him, sliding his shaft into my opening. He was big. Bigger than Lars, for sure.
    “Wow,” I said.
    He moaned with pleasure in my ear, and said, “You feel so good. Oh, Laura, that's incredible.”
    I peeked down, pulled my dress back, and saw that he was only half in me so far. My lubrication had been going since we'd first kissed, but it hadn't been massaged around, and was still mostly inside me.
    As his un-lubricated, velvet-soft shaft slid into me, my lips hugged it and nearly pulled inside myself.
    He said, “I think I need to ease out a little, and ...” He reached a hand down to touch my clit.
    When his thumb contacted my hot flesh, the feeling zapped through me like an electric shock. It was too much, too much sensation. I pushed his hand away and told him, “I don't think I can handle that.”
    He looked at me, with the sweetest expression. “But I want it to be good for you.”
    “I can't take a lot of direct contact,” I said, feeling embarrassed. This had always been a problem for me. Direct stimulation with fingers was too intense, but sex was nice, enjoyable, and I'd had a few orgasms from oral sex, back when Lars used to make an effort. In all, I'd had at least five orgasms in my life, which was better than some women, I hear.
    He shook his head. “You have to show me what to do.”
    I eased my hips up, making his shaft slippery, then I lowered myself onto him, all the way.
    His eyes rolled up with pleasure. We were in near-darkness now, lit only by the moon.
    He thrust against me gently, his eyes closed, his face tilted up to the starry sky. I didn't know how this position felt for him, but it was good for me. I enjoyed the fullness and the skin contact, and the sensation of him being inside me, along with the idea of it.
    Shawn opened his eyes and grasped me tightly by the hips, stopping my slow, rocking movements.