Her lashes flutter, and I sense she’s turning shy again. “You know what I need.”
“I have a good idea,” I murmur, nuzzling her throat so she’s not forced to make eye contact. “But I want to hear you say it.”
I catch her earlobe between my teeth and run my tongue over the pearl stud. I wonder what it would feel like to stroke her sweet little clit with my mouth, and suddenly I’m harder than I ever thought possible.
“Do you want me to fuck you, Lisa?”
She draws back, eyes wide with surprise. I sense she hasn’t had a guy talk to her like this before. I also get the feeling she likes it. She nods, biting the edge of her lip.
“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, please.”
“Please what?”
Her cheeks go pink, and she bites her lip harder. Okay, so she’s not ready to talk dirty yet. That’s cool with me. But something tells me she likes when I do it. I can tell by the way she’s squirming against me, watching my mouth for the next filthy invitation.
“You want me to shove my cock in you?” I murmur. “Is that what you want?”
She nods so fast I think her head might fall off. “Yes. Oh God, yes.”
Okay, then. No sense wasting any time.
I fumble into my back pocket, hoping to God I remembered to shove a condom in my wallet. I find the foil packet and yank it out, not caring that I just upended the contents of my billfold onto her spotless carpet.
Lisa reaches down between us, her fingers quick and clever on the button of my jeans. The denim is damp from her, and I half expect her to say something apologetic. Instead, she grabs my dick and pulls it out.
“Holy wow.” She blinks up at me. “I—um. Wow. That’s a little…uh…large.”
I stifle the urge to snort-laugh. She did say she wanted something different from her usual fare, and apparently she’s used to guys on the smaller end of the spectrum. “We can take it as slow as you want.”
She looks down again, skimming the tip of my cock with her thumb. A bead glistens on the tip, and she uses it to glide her finger around the throbbing head “It’s so…so…”
Big? Hard? I wait for one of the expected adjectives, one of the words she’s heard in dirty movies and thinks she’s supposed to say.
“Pretty.”
Huh?
She gives an embarrassed smile. “Is that not what guys like to hear?”
“You called my dick pretty?”
“Well it is.” She grips it in one hand, making my balls clench with need. She gives me a grin that shoots straight to my cock. “It’s like the perfect color and shape and?—”
“Are you planning to fuck it or decorate a room with it?”
She dissolves into giggles, making her tits jostle pleasantly beneath her silk blouse. “Oh my God! I’m an interior designer, and you just gave me the best idea for a room designed entirely in penis motif. There’d be penis- shaped throw pillows and a pink fainting couch in one corner with?—”
“I’m going to come in your hand if you don’t stop stroking me like that.”
She stops moving her hand and grins. “Well. We wouldn’t want that.”
Before I can say anything, she grabs the condom and tears open the packet. She rolls it on with expert hands, and I’ll admit I’m a little relieved she knows what she’s doing.
She starts to slide off my lap. “Let me just take off these?—”
“No.” I grip her hips to hold her in place. Then I let go with one hand, and reach between us to shove aside the damp scrap of lace between her legs, baring her to me. Perfect pink lips glisten with wetness, and I ache with the urge to bury myself inside her.
I look up and meet her eyes again, wanting to be sure. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me now.”
