“If-if I’m not doing well, can you… take over? Rather than stay bored, can you take the lead and keep things going?”
Just because I can see how much she needs that safety net, I nod and say, “I promise. But I doubt I’ll need to, love.”
She doesn’t entirely believe me, but it must be enough because she bends over to lay a shy, uncertain kiss on my lips. My hands rise higher under her dress, to the sides of her lacy underwear, and my head tilts to give her better access to me.
The music changes around us, shifting into the album’s second track—“Sexy Boy”, one of my all-time favorites. When she resumes her grinding against my crotch, I understand she quite likes it too. I’m a little confused when she pulls away to stand before me while I stay slouched on the sofa. Before I can ask what’s going on, her hips slowly begin to sway in rhythm with the beats.
Is she going to dance for me? God, I love seeing her in charge even more than I expected.
Her gaze is planted on me as she dances languorously, and when she sends a hand to her waist, where a knot keeps her dress closed, I quirk an inquisitive eyebrow. “Giving me a little show, are we?”
“Number nineteen,” she answers, tugging at the blue strap.
Give someone a strip tease.Fuck, that is indeed on the list.
With soft hands and maddening leisure, she unveils more of her body, still undulating in rhythm with Air’s song. I’ll never be able to hear that record and not get painfully hard. Which is a shame because I listen to it a lot.
When I get a glimpse of the black bra that cradles her beautiful breasts, I fight the urge to impatiently pull her in and ravish her. Especially when she hides it again, like a fucking tease. Finally, she lets the dress hang loosely on her shoulders, revealing her toned stomach, the curve of her hips, the auburn curls visible through her underwear… I’m forced to send a hand to my cock and give my knob a pinch through my jeans. She’s way too fucking sexy for this. I’ll go bloody mad before the song is over.
She notices the motion, and I see confidence in her freckled features for the first time since she made her confession. Determined to send me to an asylum before the night is over, she lifts her arms above her head and weaves them in the air with sensual gestures, her hips never halting their hypnotizing dance.
Someone recently dumped her. The man must have been as daft as a bag of dicks to let such a goddess go. Were she mine, I’d worship her day and night, relentlessly guarding her like a ferocious dragon and its priceless treasure.
As she turns around, robbing me of the sight of her pebbled nipples under the lingerie, I’m tempted once more to grab her and never let her go. But then she slides the dress off her shoulders, and slowly—frustratinglyslowly—she lowers it down, revealing the freckles and beauty spots on her back. Then, God almighty, the perfect shape of her swaying bum.
That’s it. Her ex is the dumbest piece of shit that ever roamed this planet.
My hand is over my cock, stroking it through the fabric. When she swings around to face me again, her doubts and uncertainty are entirely gone, replaced by arousal and want. I’m mesmerized when she reaches behind her back to unhook her bra.
Unable to resist any longer, I unfasten my belt. My dick’s harder than a rock, painfully aching, and I need some release before I go insane.
“No,” she stops me, holding her bra so it doesn’t fall off yet.
“Gen, I’m fucking dying here.”
“And I’m the one in charge of the teasing for once.”
With a grunt, I let go of my zipper and force my hands to rest on the couch instead. It delights her, a massive smile stretching her plump lips. “Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” she asks, letting the strap of her bra fall to the side.
I don’t get how she can be this good at it and yet think she’s anywhere near boring. Not when she’s the most mesmerizing creature I’ve ever seen.
As if confirming my thoughts, she reveals one breast, then the other, and flings the damned thing at me, right on my gawking face. I grab it, enjoying its warmth, and bunch the fabric together before inhaling her scent, my gaze never veering from her perfect tits. They swing gently with her undulations, their rosy tips erect and small, begging for my lips to wrap around them.
“Enough with this, red.”
“Oh, so you can dish it, but you can’t take it?”
My restraint finally breaks when she grabs them and pushes them together. I lunge forward before she can see it coming and clasp her behind the thighs. Her squeal turns into a helpless laugh when I haul her onto me, back into her original straddling position.
Like a starving man, I swallow her giggles, sending a bold tongue into her. Her amusement fades in seconds, subjugated by my wandering hands. When I palm the roundness of her breasts and pinch their tips, she lets out a loud, greedy moan.
“Take me to your bed,” she begs, arms wrapping around my neck.
I oblige, lifting myself and her from the couch. We never halt our kiss, entranced by one another as I make my way through the loft to reach my bed. So I’m not tempted to take over, I let myself fall back rather than topple onto her. That leaves her on top of me, almost naked while I only have my belt undone.
It seems she wants to even the field too, because she grabs the hem of my T-shirt to pull it up. In seconds and while barely interrupting our kiss, she undresses me down to my boxer briefs, her sweet little cunt pressed onto me with only our underwear shielding the contact.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I groan, filling my hands with her arse and tugging her closer.
