bitches has been a little porn-less for my taste lately.
Hey, I've been busy!
Um...here:
The bricks ground into the tender skin of her back, but she didn't care. His tongue dove into her mouth like a hot, wet Greg Louganis, and she kissed him back fiercely, the mingled flavors of tequila and Glenmoranagie where their lips met as intoxicating as the rough feel of his hands on the bare skin of her stomach. Those hands moved higher, skimming over the cups of her bra, and deftly popping the front clasp. Liberated from their lacy Bastille, her breast spilled free into his calloused palms. O liberte! O equalite! O...M&M's!
They both looked down as about fifteen M&M's clattered to the paving stones at their feet.
"Are those M&M's?" he asked incredulously.
I knew I should have worn a turtleneck, she thought as he reached up to pluck off a lone candy, clinging to the bottom curve of her left breast.
"Melts in your mouth, not in your bra?" she joked weakly.
He fingered the candy thoughtfully, a wry quirk to his lipstick be-smeared mouth. He cracked the candy between his thumb and forefinger, and the chocolate, liquified by the heat of her body, oozed out.
"Melts in your mouth, not in your hands, I always heard," he whispered as he rubbed the chocolate lightly over one breast. "Let me find out..."