Lying Lips Read Online Free PDF Page A

me. I began a sensual massage of my own.
    “I’m twenty nine years old and,” he told me as I gripped him firmly and raised my hand to the top of his manhood, “I love to have my Mandingo stroked.” He spread his legs, allowing me even more access to him to further drive his point home. I slowly allowed my fingers to ease lower. “My birthday is August 7, 1985 and,” he said as he trailed his digits deeper into my pulsating slit, “I live life on the sexual edge.”
    “Mmmm,” I moaned, pleased with his touch and stunned at his words.
    I eagerly spread my own legs when I felt Asanti’s finger take its rightful place in me. “I own seven event Halls throughout D.C and,” he said as I licked my hand and placed it back on his hardness, “the feel of my woman beneath me as I bring ecstasy to her is what I long for, what I crave.”
    “More,” I said as I lifted my hips trying to get more of him in me.
    “My catering company, Delectable Delights, provides the food for almost every major event held here in the city,” he said as he ceased touching me and began to slide his body lower. “I cater to the who’s who in this area and beyond,” he divulged as he slid lower still. “And they love to eat my cooking,” he went on as he adjusted his body until his face was between my thick, chocolatey thighs. “But not as much as I love to eat a zesty, tangy, juicy pussy,” he completed his speech then let his love licker out and began to gorge on me.
    “Oh shiiiii—” I almost screamed when I felt him tongue my hard and thumping nub.
    “Now,” he said as he licked me up and down, “I want you to tell me all about you,” he spoke before burying his face in my depths. “Starting with your name.” Had I heard him right? Was he really expecting me to talk to him when he was driving me insane? This dude was trippin’ and I was trippin’ right along with him. “What’s your name?” He asked me when I took too long to respond to his words.
    “Legaci Carmichael,” I immediately replied, my body shuddering at how splendidly he was eating me out.
    “How old are you, Legaci Carmichael?” He asked me that question through a series of cluster licks. His mouth on me right there for the second time was exquisitely delicious. I heard him ask me the question but I couldn’t speak, could do nothing but spread my legs wider and thrust my pink cookie deeper into his face. “How old are you, Legaci?” He asked me again as he applied more pressure to my sensitive spot.
    “Twenty-e…e…eight,” I replied breathlessly, my hips rolling of their own accord.
    “What do you do for a living?” I had no idea what to say and I thought long and hard for the right answer to give him. It would seem that something so simple would have been easy and come natural to me, but when in the throes of having my cake eaten I couldn’t think right, at least not right enough to give the correct answer. “What is your profession?” He reiterated demandingly.
    “Journalism,” I blurted out as my mind began to function again and he worked his mouth on me with all of the dynamism he could muster.  “I’m a Journalist!”
    “Tell me more,” he commanded, but I couldn’t talk.
    Asanti licked me like he had been starving for nothing but me since the day he was born. He was moaning as though I was scrumptious and the more he verbally, yet incoherently expressed how appetizing he thought I was, the more I was caught up and unable to respond to him.
    “Gawd, you taste so good,” he exclaimed with a deep passion, then delved his face further into me. “Mmmm,” he moaned as he continued to feast on my juices and cherry. Soon things about me were no longer important as both he and I got lost in the lust between us.
    It was time.
    Asanti was quick to remove his mouth from me and even quicker to line his love tool up with my sex weapon. There was no wasting of moments as he filled me and all we both could do was close our eyes and give