Discipline Down Under by Patricia Green

legs, his rough chin sliding toward her aching mound. She was so wet, so eager to have him touch her there.
    “Please,” she whispered.
    “Don’t talk,” he answered softly.
    Peg might not talk anymore, but she could feel, she could moan, wordlessly beg with her body. Tripp responded as though reading her mind. He separated her pussy lips with strong, callused fingers, and breathed deeply.
    It was about the most erotic thing Peg could imagine at the moment. He was taking her scent. It was so feral, so primitive that it was just about her undoing.
    When his tongue slid along the crease between her thigh and her pussy, she pulled at his hair, insisting on more, but no matter how she tugged and squirmed, Tripp had his own schedule and wouldn’t be forced to do her bidding. Eventually, when she thought she might go mad with wanting, he tickled her throbbing clit with the tip of his tongue. Peg’s hips arched up and she pressed that part of herself to his face while pulling his head down. He wouldn’t budge an inch, but his tongue snaked out and wrapped around her clit. Peg moaned and shimmied. She was going crazy.
    With a soft chuckle, Tripp glided his mouth to the core of her, and thrust inside. Peg let go of his head, raising her hands to her breasts, kneading, pulling at her nipples. She was so close to coming, so close. Tripp replaced his tongue with two fingers and went back to teasing her clit. The combination was too much for Peg, and pulling on her nipples hard, she shattered. Shards of her desire flew everywhere and nowhere. Her eyes squeezed tight, her hips arched, and she cried out.
    Tripp continued to finger her and lick her clit until she found release again. As her pulsing pussy recovered, he released her and rested his head against her thigh.
    “Oi, woman.”
    “Let me taste you, too. Or fuck me. Or both. Yes, both.”
    He chuckled. “I won’t fuck ya. It’s not the right time,” Tripp told her. “But I’m bursting at the seams from wanting yer mouth on me.”
    Peg wanted that too, though she was a little disappointed at not being allowed to feel his raging hard-on inside her pussy. “Mmm. Lie back.”
    He crawled over to her side and lay on his back. Peg grabbed his cock, and slid her hand up and down it, maybe a little roughly, because he stilled her movements and showed her how he liked it best. She followed his lead, but also leaned over him and licked at one of his nipples, causing him to squirm. It was hard to wait; Peg wanted him in her mouth, wanted to feel powerful and sexy. She worked her way down his torso, pausing briefly to tickle his belly button, but that only resulted in his hand gripping her hair and coaxing her to move lower.
    Peg rubbed her cheek against the base of his erection and tasted his balls, inhaling the scent of him, much as he’d done with her. He smelled earthy, clean, unlike anything she could compare it to. It was Tripp’s own perfume and Peg relished it. The scent clinging to her nose, Peg plied her tongue up his shaft, and tasted the drop of semen she found on its bulbous head. Salty, rich, his taste, like his scent, spoke to her hindbrain and seduced her.
    Slowly, gently, Peg took him in her mouth, feeling his grip on her hair tighten as she lowered her head until he rested on the back of her tongue. Although she was in control for the first part of the process, Tripp’s guiding hand soon had charge of the situation and was teaching Peg the right rhythm. Their breathing became harsh, and Tripp moaned and arched into her mouth.
    Peg was enjoying the experience more than she ever would have imagined. Everything about it was perfect, right. It was as though she’d waited forever for these moments. When Tripp growled and released into her mouth, she lapped it up and swallowed his essence like liquid ambrosia.
    Eventually, though they were both breathless, Tripp coaxed her up into his arms.
    They rested there until the kookaburra began to cackle and the sun lent