No Controlling Legal Authority Ch. 04

He spread her lips, and she rolled her hips toward him invitingly, lifting herself toward his face. He spread her wider and brought his face to within inches of her. He breathed her in, and she shook in eager expectation of his next caress. She saw his tongue emerge to wet his hot lips, and breathed a hopeful "Yessssss," when she thought she knew his desire. He looked and stared, and his eyes sought out the finest details of her womanhood. He opened her and marveled at the miraculous structure, the soft tissues and the flood of lubricating moisture gathered in gleaming droplets along the inner edges of her lips. His eyes caressed what his fingers refused to touch, and he drove her nearly insane with his restraint.

"Pleaseeeee," she whispered hotly when his fingers spread her wider in furtherance of his inspection, but he ignored her and fixed his gaze on the hooded appurtenance cloaked within her folds. It quivered moistly, hungering for his touch, the caress of his tongue, but he denied himself despite the insistent urging of his strengthening need.

She heard him muttering, "Beautiful, sooo sweet and soft," as he studied her, and she urged him to kiss it, but he did not.

She was becoming desperate for some release from the gnawing need in her loins. Frustration writhed with lust in her brain as he pursued his examination with endless patience. She pressed her loins forward, seeking to enjoin his lips, but he demurred, and drew back. She shivered on the verge of collapse, until, finally, he relented and let her lips slip from his fingers. She groaned in disappointment, and his fingers strummed the hard points of her nipples. He was slick with her, and his fingers slid easily over her rubbery flesh. Instantly, her loins clutched at the emptiness within her in a spastic reaction to his caresses.

"Ugh," she gasped in the exquisite pain of her longing, and looked into his face imploringly.

He ignored her need and abandoned her breasts. "Turn around, and bend over," he commanded, and she spun away from him instantly and presented her buttocks to him. She leaned and put her hands on her knees, thrusting her hips back toward him.

His eyes swept the gleaming globes of her haunches, his hot glances caressing her from her narrow waist to the shaking columns of her thighs. She moved her knees, causing her cheeks to wobble enticingly in hopes of inducing him to mount her, but he did not.

His eyes scaled the tiny crevasse between her full globes and slid the wild ride back down to the shadowy junction of her thighs. He licked his lips again, and his fingers spread her open to his gaze. He moved toward her, and she felt his hot breath on her skin. She pushed back, taunting him, daring him to touch her there, and felt his hot eyes on her puckered flesh. His cheek brushed against her as he moved closer, and she tensed in hopeful anticipation. His skin was hot against her. Her pulse pounded in her loins in an angry, insistent throbbing. Her need was overpowering.

She looked between her legs and saw him. He was dark, rigid with excitement, and thrust upward toward her moistness. She reached down to seize him, to take his hose in her hand and direct it's flow to quench the terrible fire in her loins, but he was beyond her reach. His lips touched her crease lightly and she wanted to drop to her knees and beg him to fuck her.

Suddenly, he pushed her away and sighed heavily. "Enough of that," he said, "sit down," and she spun around to face him in astonished dismay and frustration.

* * *

"Good God," Caleb breathed hotly and he raked his forehead with his arm, moping perspiration with the sleeve of his shirt. He shifted in the chair and tugged at his trousers, repositioning the growing length there. "Moon Dog, you crafty son-of-a-bitch," he said, thinking aloud, "how the hell do you come up with this stuff? It's like you were right inside her head the whole time." He had abandoned even the pretext of note taking and surrendered himself completely to the eroticism of the story. He half-heartedly made a mental note to try to pin Moon Dog down and make him admit to concocting most of the details next time they met, but he knew that getting Moon Dog to admit to anything was like making the Pope confess to fornication, and that wasn't about to happen.

He picked up the manila envelope that had contained the report when it was delivered that afternoon, and shook an eight by ten glossy photograph onto his desk. He picked the photo up and studied it carefully in the light of his desk lamp. Terrell had been right; she was a stunner. It was a head shot that showed only her face and the tops of her shoulders, and Caleb felt a pang of disappointment, when further shaking of the envelope failed to dislodge any of the more revealing photos which Moon Dog described in his report. He turned the picture to flatten the light reflecting off its surface and stared at the fine lines of the young woman's attractive features. Her blue eyes stared back at him, unblinking, and held him in their inanimate gaze. Deep pools of indigo blue innocently masked the turmoil he knew must dwell in her mind and revealed nothing of the depraved salaciousness of her experiences. The face of an angel newly risen from the depths of Hell, reborn and untouched by experience looked up at him and stirred his heart. His eyes caressed her features, the expectant arch of her eyebrows, the thick curl of her eyelashes, the subtly chiseled line of her nose and the sensuous sweep of her lips, and his penis lurched heavily when he thought of her kneeling, begging silently for the pleasure of sucking her tormentor's cock. He struggled for focus and his hand squeezed his member tightly to defer his growing excitement. She looks like someone familiar, he thought, but he was too absorbed in the story to put a name to the memory, and he returned to the report with excited anticipation.