I gasped. “On Twenty-Ninth Street.”
“You have plenty of time.”
“I can’t be late…”
Beck moved down my body, kissing me lower and lower.
“I have to make a good impression.” I moaned.
“Hm,” Beck said, nuzzling the mound between my legs. I groaned, grabbing the back of his head.
“What company is it?”
“I don’t actually know the name.”
“Sounds like a total scam,” he said.
“I’m desperate.”
His tongue flicked out to lick my pussy.
I cursed.
“Really,” he said. Another lick.
I shuddered.
“Desperate, huh?”
Then his mouth and tongue were on me. I spread my legs, hand tanged in his hair, the other bunching the sheet as he licked long, slow strokes on my pussy as I moaned.
Then abruptly, he was gone.
“If you want the job that bad, I guess I won’t stop you.”
I moaned in frustration. “You can’t leave me like that.”
“You said you didn’t want to be late.”
“It’s probably a scam,” I said, reaching for him. “And if it’s not, I need a little relaxation so I’m not tense for the interview.”
He reached down to play with my tits. “That relaxing?”
“I need you.” I gasped.
One hand stroked over my curves, going down, down.
I spread my legs for him. He stroked me with two fingers. I bucked against his hands.
“More,” I begged, my pussy aching for him. “Fuck me…” I begged. “Please, Beck. I need to feel you.”
I reached for him. He was hard.
He fished a condom out of the nightstand. Then his mouth was back, making me see stars as his tongue curled around my clit.
I pulled at his hair. Beck sat up and grabbed my wrist. Pushing my hands above my head, he crawled over me. I spread my legs wider, begging for him.
Then he was in me.
