Greetings, Sunday Snoggers! As part of this week’s kiss-tastic action over at Blissekiss, I’m sharing a snog from what’s still one of my personal favourites among my books, Someone Else’s Skin. A tale of body-swapping, time-travelling and very kinky rock musicians, it features a cheeky little kiss as part of a threesome between heroine Annie, her boyfriend, Matt, and his fellow bandmate, Kevin:
The night air still held more than a trace of warmth as we stood on the sidewalk outside the club. We had to wait less than a minute before a yellow cab cruised into view. Matt flagged it down and gave the driver our address. The three of us squeezed into the back seat, Matt and Kevin making sure I was between the two of them. I had barely complied with the recorded announcement reminding me to buckle my seat belt before my skirt had been lifted almost to my waist and each of the guys had a hand between my legs. Kevin was busy with my clit while Matt’s finger rubbed gently against the entrance to my arse.
I was sure the driver was using his mirror to watch us, but before I could open my mouth to object, Matt had locked his lips to mine and was kissing me hard. By the time the cab pulled up outside our building, I was so weak with arousal I practically had to be carried to the front door. The cabbie said nothing as Matt paid him, but I had a vision of the man pulling over in some quiet parking spot so he could pull his cock out of his pants and jerk off.
Once inside the apartment, we went straight to the bedroom. Matt had me naked in seconds, then I lay back on the bed to watch him and Kevin strip off. Suddenly, I was being confronted by two nicely sized cocks, already well on the way to being hard. Kevin’s, I noticed, was uncut, the head beginning to emerge from its smooth sleeve of skin. I couldn’t wait to touch it, and reached out a hand in greedy anticipation.
Matt looked on, stroking himself, as I made myself familiar with Kevin’s body. His muscles were more defined than Matt’s, his abs almost ridged to my touch, and the Celtic band wasn’t his only tattoo, I soon discovered. He had a black rose, its stem encircled with barbed wire, on his left arse cheek. I wondered how many other girls besides me had seen it.
‘I thought of having a tattoo done once,’ I said, giving that rose a little kiss. ‘Something in a secret place so only my lovers would ever find out about it.’
‘You never told me that,’ Matt said.
‘You never asked,’ I replied, beckoning him to join us on the bed.