He strokes my clit slowly, lightly. At first it feels nice, but as the pressure builds, that light touch becomes torturous. I thrust against him, but he pins me down, his arm heavy on my hipbone.
“Ah, ah. This is my pussy. I’m in charge, naughty girl.”
I swallow hard. Those words send a pulse of desire straight to my belly. “Yes.”
“And what I want right now…” he says as he keeps stroking me lightly, faintly, “is to fuck you senseless.”
With that, he thrusts his cock into my pussy, hard and without warning. I gasp and buck against the sheets. He plunges deep inside me, and my pussy is tight with surprise. But I’m already wet from his touches, his slow strokes, and he slides all the way inside me without resistance, stretching my muscles, making me ache.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk downstairs,” he whispers, and my pussy pulses around his cock, another spike of desire heating me up.
“You like that, I see.” He pulls out of me. Thrusts in again, harder. “You’re such a dirty little slut. I love it.”
He keeps it up like that, fucking me, then slowing down to tease me, stroking my clit alternately whenever he pauses. It’s not long before I feel desperate, crazed with desire. I try to thrust against him, but he spanks my ass once, hard enough to sting. Then he keeps fucking me, hard but slow, driving me wild.
Finally, just when I feel like I’m going to lose it, going to go crazy from the urge to truly fuck him, he grabs my hips and starts to fuck me in earnest. It feels so good after all the teasing that I cry out. That shifts into a low, throaty moan as he keeps fucking me, his cock spearing me with every thrust, thick and tight inside my pussy.
He bends me in half, fucks me so hard that I lose track of anything but his body against mine, his cock in me, my hands fisted in the sheets. When I finally come, he’s right there with me, both of us crying out with pleasure at the same time as we finish.
He pulls out, still breathing hard, and rolls onto his back cursing under his breath.
“You are positively addictive, Clove Walker.”
“I could say the same about you, Zayne Pearson.”
We move to the shower, ostensibly to clean off. We are covered in sweat, after all. Among other things. But he insists on washing me, and when he lathers up his palms with soap and runs those rough, strong hands over my body, slowly, head to toe, I can’t help it. The fire starts to build in my belly again, this lust, insatiable, impossible to please.
Finally, when it feels like too much, I spin to face him, half-covered in soap that he’s massaged into my body.
“Let me suck your cock again. Please.”
He half-laughs, eyes hooded and dark with amusement. “Who am I to deny a lady what she wants?”
He steps back, and I kneel before him in the shower. Let the hot water run over my back and shoulders, rinsing me off even as I part my lips and suck his cock into my mouth.
He tastes just as good as I remember. And this time, when I build up a pace, sucking him in and out of my mouth until he starts to thrust into my throat, losing control, he doesn’t stop me. He throat-fucks me, slams his hips into my face, the tip of his cock sliding down my throat with every thrust, until he’s gritting his teeth and groaning loudly.
I keep going, my hands wrapped around his balls, tugging at them, toying with them as I suck him into my mouth. He fucks my face, slams against me, and I relax, opening myself to him fully. I let him take control and fuck me how he wants, until he’s right at the brink.
“Swallow my cum,” he groans, just before it hits him. When he comes, I tighten my lips around him and press my tongue along his length. He comes hard, deep in my throat, and I swallow it all, savoring the taste, the particular, unique flavor that’s all him. I keep going, keep sucking until he moans my name, and only then do I lean back to lick his cock clean, slowly, an inch at a time.
I stand up, and I’m amused to find him red-faced and breathing hard, leaning against the shower wall. Now it’s his turn to struggle to stay upright.
“How was that?” I ask innocently, batting my eyes.
He shakes his head, a smile on his face and his eyes locked on mine. “You were definitely still thirsty,” he points out, and we both laugh a little.
Eventually, we do manage to clean off. Then we stumble out of the shower in towels and he gestures for me sit on the couch.