They had reached the car, and Alan offered her a ride. She declined, explaining that her agency was sending a car. She grabbed an eyeliner pencil from...her purse and wrote her mobile number over her photo in the catalogue, tore it from the book and stuck it in the pocket of his suit coat. Pete, waiting at the car, gave Alan a sly grin. ‘So, who’s Chloe?’ ‘Oh, Chloe Mayhew, just some Victoria’s Secret model I know.’ ‘You’re shitting me,’ he croaked. ‘I’m shitting you negative. She wasn’t a model. He put his hands under by me, gripping my cheeks, lifting me. I moved my feet to the edge of the bed. Holding my cheeks firmly, he pushed his tongue into my puss hole until his nose was rubbing my clit. Moving his tongue in and out and around while his nose flicked my clit side to side. ‘Oh yeah! This is what I want to be doing now!’ His hands moved to pinch my puss lips, spreading them wide, to place his mouth over my clit. Slowly sucking and licking. A quick-onset orgasm surprised me. Yet. More

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