Whispers That Melt: The Sexiest Thing You Can Say
The Sexiest Thing You Can Say What if the sexiest thing you could say had nothing to do with words? Last Saturday, my lover R.S. went dirtbike riding—his first long ride of the year. Forty miles or so. Just him, the trail, and the hum of adrenaline. I know how he gets after a ride like that. His energy? Uncontainable. His body? Taut, pulsing with effort. His cock? Rock-hard and ready. The thought of him—dust-covered, sweat-slick, all man—made my thighs ache. I was already wet before he walked through the door. And when he did, I had plans. Plans to use every ounce of that post-ride energy. I was ready for a ride of my own. You could call it selfish. But leaving that kind of opportunity untouched? Not my style. We jumped into his F-150. I didn't care where we were headed. I just needed him parked. Still. Mine. I had intentions. Unladylike ones. He drove us to a secluded, pretty, wooded spot near a quiet pond. Honestly, I barely noticed the scenery. All I wanted was the ...