“But do you like me more?” I tease lowly.
“Maybe.” She bites her lip, grinning.
“How much more?”
“I’m not sure,” she grins.
There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t do this, but I convince myself that it’s harmless play and doesn’t mean shit in the grand scheme of things.
“Let me help you with your decision making,” I say as I unbutton her jeans and slide them down her legs while never taking my eyes off of her.
“Blake, is the door locked?”
“Nobody’s walking in here, and even if they did, I don’t mind if they watch.”
“Well, I do!” she giggles until I slide my fingers inside her panties and find a warm and wonderfully wet surprise–desire.
“I think you like the idea of someone walking in here and catching me filling this wet pussy with my fingers, then my thick cock, and later my tongue to soothe it from the beating I just put on it.”
“Your mouth is so dirty,” she moans as my fingers start working her pussy with careful precision.
“You like that shit though, don’t you, pretty girl?”
“Yes,” she moans, her palms splayed against the wall beside her spread thighs.
I rip the side of her panties and toss them to the ground.
“Open wider, baby,” I tell her. “Spread those legs for me.”
I bend down on my knees, slide my hands behind her ass, and feast on a cunt that tastes like pure heaven.
“Fuck, Blake–”
“I know,” I say against her skin. “It feels so good, doesn’t it?”
When her ass starts to vibrate, I know she’s close to coming.
“Yes, Blake,” she cries. “So fucking good.”
I lift her thighs across my shoulders and stand, sliding her body higher against the wall. She grips my hair tightly to hold on, which only makes my dick harder, aching for her.
When she comes, it’s as if a majestic being is being lit from within. She beams with sunlight as her cries echo in the hallway.
I slow my hurried pace down, knowing that her clit is sensitive, and softly lap at her core as she comes down.
Her body starts to relax, so I lower her down before she falls off my shoulders like one big, floppy, satiated noodle.
The panties are ruined, but I hand her the jeans and do my best to pretend that my dick isn’t weeping for her, waiting for its own release.
“Can I do the same for you?” She flirts, making a beeline for my belt buckle, but I stop her.
“We’ve already wasted too much time,” I say, wiping the corner of my mouth. “It’s time to call my sister.”
Peyton doesn’t protest, although I know she’s confused and maybe disappointed by my behavior. I add it to my list of sins, knowing that denying myself the pleasure she wants to give me is probably a just punishment.
“Hey, big head,” Talia answers immediately. "Tell me you didn't just agree to something stupid."
"Define stupid."
