Roland DeForrest

The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey

1

HONEY

“Ricardo,” she purred, and pulled free from his fevered clutches. “You’re making it extremely hard on me.”

His flashing black eyes twinkled with amusement. “Sí. And you make hard-on for me. See?” Proudly he stepped back, revealing the tented front of his velvet robe. Slowly, like a master unveiling a work of art, he pulled loose the belt and opened the robe, exposing his erect demands. His sleek cock was the color of sandalwood.

Tempted, Honey eyed him for a long moment. Ricardo Prado was about the most appealing hunk of man she had encountered lately. Just over six feet of hardened flesh, tapered waist, slim hips, muscular thighs, with curly black hair and a boyish, devil-may-care charm that had won her over within moments of their meeting in Mexico City at the National Soccer Championships. Hailed as one of the world’s greatest players, a natural successor to the sensational Pele, Ricardo was to be the subject of her next exclusive and internationally published article. But ever since their arrival back at her palatial home in Hillsborough, California, his mind had been more on in-depth screwing than on in-depth interviewing.

“Pack it away, lover boy,” she sighed in resignation, and gathered her notes from the bedside table. “I’ve work to do. We’ll play later. I promise.” She threw him a dazzling smile and, tossing her shoulder-length waves of Titian-colored hair, walked quickly out of her bedroom, her full hips swaying provocatively under the sheer iridescent green of her chiffon caftan.

Like a dutiful puppy, Ricardo followed, the pout evident in his tone as he spoke: “Work, work, work… I want to fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“You’re on vacation,” she said over her shoulder and headed for the grand staircase leading to the ground floor. “I’m on a deadline. Your interview has to be on the wire by this afternoon. And Honey Wildon never misses a deadline.”

He caught her arm, swinging her around, pulling her close, crushing her heavy breasts into his bare chest. “You’ve got time,” he growled good-naturedly, and pressed his mouth on hers. As they kissed, she could feel his hardness pushing at her belly like an insistent divining rod. For another moment she wavered, a demanding warmth rushing up from her loins, filling her with an intense desire. Reluctantly she broke away and gave a friendly squeeze to his hard-on. “Ricardo, you are insatiable.”

He frowned. “What’s that mean?”