"She's wet, check her." Thomas laughed and slipped a finger up her skirt and into her panties. He pulled them back out and presented his now wet finge... to the other men in the room. "She's soaking," he announced, and licked the juices off his finger. "Sweet." Eric stood up and pulled Tris to their dining table. It was big and wooden, seeming to dwarf the woman. He dragged her across it and let her legs dangle down. Tris had to tiptoe to reach the floor, even with her three inch heels. Her skirt. He should stop it. Instead, the only reason he pulls away is the sloppiness of this first kiss. He shushes her. Calms her. “Softly,” he instructs. “Lips together at first. Match mine.”She learns to kiss. And she learns well. Her mouth only opens when his does, letting his tongue through. He feels her tighten when tip meets tip, only to intensify her embrace and her kiss when she experiences the added pleasure.Breaking the kiss and opening her eyes, he sees her renewed desire. “Why?” she asks. More

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