“Wait,” I say. “What if we…both took care of ourselves together?”
“Teagan,” he groans as if I’m killing him.
“Look, either we both just do it here in front of each other or we go into our own rooms, because that’s exactly what will happen.” I sigh, feeling myself growing wetter. “If it’s too much, that’s okay… I figured it might help watching each other. No touching.”
“All right,” he hums. “If we’re doing this, I’m in charge.”
“You know I like to be.” My voice turns sultry like.
“Take off your clothes and hop back up on the counter,” he orders, completely ignoring me.
And fuck, I hate how he knows me so well. Because yes, despite liking being in charge, I’m going feral for how commanding he’s being.
I hop down and quickly shed my clothes, completely naked as I sit back on the cool countertop.
“What now, sir?” I play into the roles he’s setting here with him being in charge, and I know he likes it based on the way he grips his cock through his sweats.
“Put one leg up on the counter. I want to see that pretty pussy glisten for me.”
I do as I’m told, reveling in the way his eyes turn dark once they land on my pussy.
Quentin drops his sweats, revealing his hard cock as he lazily strokes it up and down.
“Run a finger through your slit and show me how wet you are.”
A moan escapes me as soon as my fingers make contact with my pussy, my fingers drenched from one swipe. I hold them up for him to see and he leans his head back, a groan leaving his throat as he works his cock faster.
“Can I keep touching myself?” I ask for permission. Something I’ve never done in any regard.
His eyes are blazing with want as he looks at me and says, “Stick two fingers inside your pussy and fuck yourself with them. I want to hear how wet you are.”
My body heats at his words, at how filthy yet right they feel. This is a new side of Quentin I’ve yet to see, and it’s like he knew I needed this.
I slip two fingers inside of me, my head falling back as my lips part into an O as I moan. I move them in and out of me, fucking myself with them as he instructed. The sounds of my fingers moving in and out of my pussy fill the kitchen, letting him hear just how wet I am.
“Eyes on me,” he demands, making me snap my gaze to him. His cock is red with the veins bulging, telling me he’s close.
That sight alone mixed with the feel of my own fingers is nearly enough to undo me.
“Your tits are fucking beautiful, but right now I want to watch you play with your clit. Keep those fingers fucking you and don’t stop until you come.”
“Yes, sir,” I say as I bite my bottom lip and bring my other hand to my clit, massaging it just the way I like in tight circles. “Fuck,” I curse, that impending orgasm building higher and higher.
“Goddammit,” he grunts, working his hand even faster over his cock.
“I want you to come inside me,” I moan, so turned on by the thought that I can’t keep it to myself. I’ll get to feel him somewhat inside me, hopefully soothing the ache between my legs that is begging to have him there.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, I need to feel you, please,” I pant, getting slicker at the thought.
“Fuck, I can’t say no to you,” he growls, and I remove my hand quickly as he storms toward me.
He spreads my thighs and inserts just the tip, then comes instantly. His body spasms as his cum fills me, and it sets me off as I explode, screaming and writhing on the counter. Quentin does his best to remain still, keeping only the tip inside me.
We’re both breathing heavily as we come down from our orgasms, and I feel him withdraw his tip while I silently wish he had pushed forward fully, to hell with the consequences.
“Don’t move,” he tells me, and I remain still as the sink turns on and a drawer opens. Soon he’s between my legs with a warm cloth, gently cleaning me up.
