I bend my knees, perching myself on the edge of the sofa, whilst Giselle spreads her legs, showcasing her pink pussy, slightly puffy and swollen, inner thighs red with a stubble rash from my teeth, tongue and lips.
Uncurling my fingertips from my fist, I slide my thick middle finger through the wet seam of her, over the throbbing hood of her clit and down her folds before I press the tip of my finger to her entrance.
“You okay?” I can’t help but ask, needing to hear the reassurance of her voice.
Giselle nods against my sofa cushion, pupils dilated. She licks her lips and bucks her hips up against my finger in reminder of what she wants me to do to her.
I slide my finger further inside her, feeling the walls of pussy cling onto me greedily.
God, she’s tight.
She’s going to feel otherworldly wrapped around my cock, when—
“More, Hudson.”
Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I press my ring finger to join my middle, eliciting a moan from my throat and a hiss from Giselle’s.
I tense my wrist, about to pull my fingers out, so I don’t cause her anymore pain, but Giselle clenches around me. Keeping me there.
“Don’t pull out,” she groans, nibbling at her own lip.
Christ.
“You’re going to kill me,” I huff, barely holding onto my rope of restraint. Using my free hand, I deftly unbutton the clasp of my trousers, my cock bobbing over the top of the waistband of my underwear and give myself a tight squeeze.
A reminder.
This isn’t about me.
It’s about Giselle.
Raising my line of eyesight to rest on her face so I can catalogue every expression – pained and pleasure – I crook my two fingers, pressing against the front wall of her pussy in search of that spongey spot I’m sure will have her back bowing off my sofa.
“H-Hudson,” Giselle pants, hips twisting, brow furrowed.
A fresh surge of wetness coats my fingers when I swipe the pad of my thumb over her sensitive clit, drawing a pretty whimper from Giselle’s red, lipstick smeared, mouth.
Keeping my pace as steady as I possibly can, I rock my fingers inside of Giselle until her gritted hiss of pain becomes a gasp of ecstasy.
“Don’t—don’t fucking stop,” she moans, as I hit a particularly sensitive spot.
My lips tick up at the corners with pride, knowing I’m the only one who gets to touch her like this, I’m the only one who gets to see Giselle fall apart like this at the touch of my own hand.
Pushing up through my thighs, I scramble up Giselle’s body to wrap my lips around her left nipple, cupping the weight of her other breast with my palm.
The wet sounds of Giselle’s pussy ricochet across the four walls of my living room, mixing with her panting moans, driving me even further to insanity, pushing me to the brink, short circuiting my mind until all I can think about it making her explode all over my fingers.
Wrapping one arm around my neck, Giselle practically drags me upwards to lay her lips on mine. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated as Giselle takes her own pleasure, too caught up in the moment to even attempt to perfect it. That’s exactly what I fucking love about her. Nothing is filtered. She is perfectly, organically,unapologeticallyherself; take it or leave it.
“Hudson…” she whispers. “I’m close.”
“That’s it,” I coo, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger so she can’t look away. “Take what you need from me, Gee. Fucking take it. It’s yours. You’ve waited so long, you’ve earned it, so just let go.”
Giselle shatters over my hand; the walls of her pussy fluttering rhythmically while her mouth falls open, my name whimpered against my own upper lip.
I drink in the sight of her, committing every fucking inch of her body, still twitching with ecstasy, to memory so this moment between us can last forever.
“You’re so pretty when you cum,” I mumble into her jaw, dipping my head to suck a mark there. To brand myself into her skin.
