His eyes search mine as his finger stills on his zipper. “If you don’t want to have sex, we don’t—”
“Oh,” I interrupt, reaching for him. “I really want to have sex, but you were so generous with me.”
“This isn’t an exchange of points, Faith. I’m not keeping a tally. If everything is still on the table, I want to fuck you. Your mouth is totally fuckable, baby, but I’d never pick it over that sweet pussy of yours.”
My hand roams to the apex of my thighs, and he watches as his hands blindly pull at his clothes. He pauses before pulling his cock out to rip his shirt over his head, and I have no idea where to look. I have so many things to choose from—his abs, the dark hair on his chest. Hell, the tip of his cock is visible, and just like he confessed earlier about my tits, I want to lick every part of him. I want to taste his skin and compare it to the saltiness of his cum.
“Do you even need me right now?” I jolt my gaze from his chest to his eyes, finding him watching my working hand.
I have two fingers buried in my pussy, the fingers of the other hand working over my clit. It’s exactly how I get myself off when I’m alone, normally needing both penetration and clitoral stimulation to get off.
“I need you,” I answer.
“I like watching you play with yourself.”
I continue to do just that as he stands to kick off his boots and discard his jeans. He’s got leg muscles for days, but the thickness at the center of him draws all my attention.
His hand begins to stroke in the same tempo I’m using on my clit. When I speed up, so does he. When I slow down, so does he.
“Killing me, baby.”
I’m not one for pet names, but I love hearing him say them for some reason.
“Condom?” I ask.
With one hand still on his cock, he reaches for his jeans again, pulling a foil packet from his wallet. He doesn’t waste another second before rolling it down his dick.
Pulling my soaked fingers from my core, I stand in front of him. Immediately, he reaches for my fingers and sucks them clean before pressing his mouth to mine. The next thing I know, he’s lifting me, the heat of his cock pressed to my belly as he turns us and sits down on the couch.
“Ride my cock,” he commands, hands shifting to my inner thighs as if he has to hold me open to take him.
Like we’ve choreographed this, I lift, and he angles his erection right where my body is begging for it. I expect a squeak to escape my lips when I start to lower on his thickness, but when my mouth opens, no sound comes out.
“Fuuucckk,” he groans, his hands shifting to my ass.
I lean forward, my hips rolling in circles, more in an attempt to adjust to the size of him than anything else, and press my lips to his.
We’re not fast or slow, but the perfect rhythm of two bodies coming together. With how amazing it feels and how in tune we are with each other, I can’t believe this is the very first time.
When my legs start to shake from inexperience in this position, his hands under my ass begin to assist.
“That’s it. Fuck, baby. Take my cock.” He rests his forehead on my shoulder. “God, I love how that greedy pussy takes all of me.”
My stomach clenches with the dirty words. I never knew how much of a turn-on they could be.
“So fucking wet. Goddamn, Faith, roll your hips.”
I do as he requests, loving how he feels as a whimper escapes my lips.
“Are you going to come again, baby? God, I’m dying to feel it.”
His hands work fast, lifting me up and letting gravity carry me back down.
“Ethan,” I hiss. “My clit.”
I explode at the first brush of his thumb over that sensitive flesh, leaving me boneless and thinking I didn’t even need it. Had I given it five more seconds, I would’ve orgasmed with penetration alone.
“My turn,” he snaps, lifting me up while I’m fully impaled on his cock. My back hits the couch, and he covers me completely with his body. With one knee high on his hip, the man ruts into me. I know how uncouth that sounds, but there’s no other way to describe it. His lips suck on my nipple as his hips snap forward over and over.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I’m so sensitive from my second orgasm, I feel the pulse of his cock deep inside of me, or maybe it’s because he’s so large. Who the hell cares? It feels amazing.
I grip his sweaty back as he trembles, wishing my arms were longer and my hands were bigger so I could hold more of him.