The ABCs of Erotica - A is for Anal Read Online Free PDF

A is for Anal
    Michael smiled and took Grace’s hand, urging her from the bed. She followed him in eager anticipation, still tingling inside. His frank appreciation released her sensuality from its cage where it had been long confined. She’d spent day after day trapped in a suit, her hair restrained. Only Michael had seen through her prim facade. Only Michael had explored what was beneath.
    He led her to the bathroom and turned on the shower taps. Steamy vapor clouded the air, and the tips of Grace’s long brown hair curled wildly. He guided her inside the huge, stone-lined shower. Her bare feet gripped the cool, textured tiles. Deliciously warm water streamed over her skin and Grace laughed—delighted.
    Michael picked up a shampoo bottle and squeezed some into his hand. The steam picked up the jasmine scent and spread it through the air. Grace inhaled deeply and allowed the warm, fruity scent to envelop her. He slid his hands through her hair and massaged her scalp with the pads of his fingers. Her skin tingled with sensation from his attentions. His fingers slipped though the strands of her hair, long and silky to the touch. Slow and thorough, he worked the lather, combing his fingers through scalp to ends. She arched toward him, silently asking for more.
    Michael piled her hair up onto her head, took the oval soap bar from the dish and rubbed it between his palms until it frothed up. He stretched his fingers around her neck, kneading gently. Michael massaged his fingers into her muscles, back and forth and down to her shoulders. His hands had the subtle calluses of a man who didn’t spend all his time in an office. Soap slicked hands slipped under her arms, down the soft skin of the undersides, and all the way to her fingers. He intertwined their fingers, squeezing them, and then allowed his fingers to travel back up the outside of her arms.
    She moaned in protest when his hands left her skin to pick up the soap again. Michael’s tender ministrations loosened her muscles as well as her inhibitions. He moved his hands around to her stomach and pressed himself against her back. Grace gasped as she felt the heat of his body against her skin. He was so hard and so hot.
    His palms cupped her breasts, and he slicked soap into the cleavage between. Her breasts were full and firm, but her skin was velvety soft. Her nipples were puckered hard, and he lingered there a moment tracing the edges of her areolae. His fingers traveled down until they dipped inside her navel. Lower and lower, he continued to stroke and slide until Grace felt him spread her pussy lips apart.
    Her legs trembled, and she had to fight the urge to push her legs together. He reached between the folds of her lips, washing and stimulating. His hand moved around to her ass, soaping the cheeks, and he slid his index finger down her ass crack. Slow and gentle, he touched the outside of her anus while he rubbed his cock against her ass cheek, back and forth.
    Michael leaned forward and nibbled her ear. "I hope I didn’t make you sore."
    Grace smiled and shook her head. He’d been powerful and vigorous, but she’d been right there with him, her pussy dripping wet and ready.
    Michael continued kissing Grace’s neck while he stroked her ass with the soap. Kneeling down, he rubbed the bar all over her thighs, down behind her knees and over her calves, first one leg and then the other. Lifting each foot in turn, he soaped the skin and pressed his fingers between the toes and then around her ankle, under her sole and arch.
    Grace let the languid warmth spread over her skin. Soapsuds streamed down her body and swirled down the drain. The attention was intoxicating. His sensual touch melted her. Every place his fingers touched swelled with arousal.
    Michael stood up, guided Grace under the spray and rubbed her skin all over, rinsing the soap down her body. He pressed his body closer and closer until Grace braced herself against the wall. She felt the friction of his