Thrill Seeker by Kristina Lloyd Page B

that lost space if my phone hadn’t started ringing in my bag. Liam glanced up at me, his dark ginger curls askew, eyes unfocused, lips and chin glinting wetly. ‘You need to get that?’ he asked in a throaty voice.
    ‘No,’ I whispered. ‘Don’t stop.’
    ‘Let me try the dil,’ he said, reaching for it.
    I was coasting on a high of arousal, amenable to pretty much anything. Only one thought threatened to draw me from the moment: was that Den calling? No reason why it should be but I hadn’t heard from him for a while. And friends and family generally text rather than phone.
    Liam rolled a condom over the dil, telling me the wood wasn’t seasoned and needed protecting from moisture. Well, I was beyond moist so that made sense and the sheath stopped me worrying about splinters. He positioned the hard head of the phallus at my entrance. All my thoughts returned to where I was, to the pressure at the lips of my cunt. Slowly, Liam eased the wooden length into me. I gasped at its inflexibility,crying out when the thickness of the G-spot bump prised me further open. ‘Gorgeous,’ said Liam, his energies focused on my enjoyment.
    I heard my phone honk. Text message, maybe voicemail. Fuck it. Forget it. Liam nudged the toy up and down, pressing against that tender spot inside me. Soon, I was mindless again, overtaken. My inner flesh thickened fast. I knew what was coming next. I would ejaculate. I wouldn’t be able to help it. Liam would take the release from me, extracting pleasure as no one had ever done before.
    He scissored his fingers either side of my clit and rubbed steadily. I grew breathless, dizzy. When I was close to something – I hardly knew what, to coming or gushing – Liam withdrew the dil and replaced it with his middle fingers. He hooked them on to my G, pressing back and forth, hard, ruthless and fast. Sensation crested, became urgent, and a hot cascade of bliss trickled inside me. I wailed, my pelvic muscles spreading to a loose, easy freedom as warm liquid poured onto Liam’s wrist and splashed against my thighs.
    ‘Yes,’ hissed Liam. ‘Fuck, yes.’
    I flopped back against the chair, panting.
    After a while, Liam asked, ‘You OK?’
    ‘Totally,’ I said, grinning. ‘I need a bit of a breather though.’
    I drew Liam close to rest his head on my stomach. Ejaculation, still relatively new to me, often left me shocked and drained. For me, gushing wasn’t climactic but it was damn close. When Liam had first made me squirt, I hadn’t even noticed the tipping point when liquid rushed. Sure, his actions brought intense pleasure but squirting wasn’t peaking. A lot of fuss about nothing, I’d thought. All that pressure on women to find their G-spot was due to squirting’s popularityin porn where evidence of pleasure counts for more than her experience of it.
    But the more Liam made me squirt, the better it became. My body responded quickly, and I learned to ride the rise and fall. Before long, without me even trying, I was gushing fast and hard, sensitised to its triggers and craving the release it brought. Sex with Liam was scattered with sopping-wet pleasure-bombs, an extravagant mess we made en route to the euphoric heights of orgasm.
    ‘I think we need a towel,’ I said as Liam sat back.
    He fetched a clean cloth from a drawer and I mopped squeakily at the leather seat as Liam rolled a joint. ‘Well, I heartily approve of the new dil,’ I said.
    ‘Me too.’ Liam glanced up from sprinkling grass and grinned. ‘Perfect fit. I’m thinking of making more. Not for you. To sell.’
    ‘Where? Here? Bit risky, isn’t it? Supposing the Saltbourne Echo got wind of it? You’d be all over the papers. The council might boot you out.’
    ‘Online.’ He lit the joint and inhaled deeply. ‘I’ve made a prototype of some leather cuffs. I’ll show you later.’
    ‘Oh, wow. Cool.’ I watched Liam release a slow trickle of smoke. I tried to let a decent interval pass before saying,