I walk into the main room and press her against the wall, devouring her neck and breasts, yanking the dress down to expose them in all their glory.
Amanda wraps her legs around me and I hold her against the wall with my weight while my hands find her breasts, clutching them, running my thumbs over her nipples until she moans.
“You like that?” I ask, teasing them between my fingertips.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“How much do you like it?”
“I’m so wet…” she whimpers.
I reach one hand down under her dress and find her pussy.
Then I groan. “Yes you are. Fuck me, baby girl. You’re dripping. Are you wet for me?”
“Yes,” she whispers, her hips grinding against my fingers, wanting,needingmore.
“I want to make you mine.”
She opens her eyes and her gaze locks on mine.
“I am yours,” she tells me. “For tonight, I am yours.”
With that, I carry her over to the couch in the middle of the room and sit down with her on my lap.
She gets on her knees and pulls the dress up over her body and throws it across the room.
I undo my belt and slacks.
My cock, hard and ready, springs free.
I stop, looking at her.
She is in nothing but pink panties.
And staring, eyes wide, at my cock.
“Do you want it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me?” I ask.
“Yes,” she nods.
“Show me.”
Amanda kisses me and my jaw works to take her tongue into my mouth.
I reach up to push the long, red locks of hair from her face, but she reaches down and wraps her hand around my dick and squeezes, running her hand up to the head.
“Fuck…” I growl into her mouth and instead of brushing her hair back, I clutch it in my hand and pull.
I worry for a split second if I am being too rough for her.
If I am too much for her.
But Amanda lowers herself onto me, answering that question pretty quickly.
