“I think we can safely check that box. I soaked my panties back when you started talking about coming and jerking off and fucking my tits.”
“I figured, but soaking your panties really isn’t enough. I want you drenched. I want you so wet it’s all over your thighs and ass and my bed.”
She swallowed thickly, thinking of all the ways he could accomplish that.
Or maybe something else, something he hadn’t mentioned and she couldn’t think of.
“Uh-huh. And how…how do you…”
“Intend to do that? Think we should start by getting those jeans off.”
As soon as he said the words, she started wriggling out of them, fingers quick and eager on the buttons, mind barely glancing against the idea of what she was revealing.
Until he spoke, in a voice as thick as honey.
“No, no. Slower. Do it slower than that.”
“Why do you need me to go slower?”
“So I can jerk off while you do.”
“You really…that really…you…”
“God yeah. Come on, baby. Tease me.”
“I don’t know if I’m capable of…teasing.”
“Want to see what a good job you’re doing already?”
She nodded the moment he said it, so quick and eager he kind of laughed. But it was fine—it was a good laugh. The kind that unwound all the tension in her, and left nothing behind but anticipation. She was practically buzzing by the time he knelt, breath coming in shaky pants, hips rocking against nothing.
And then he eased his cock out, and all she could do was moan.
He hadn’t been lying—it looked heavier and more swollen than she’d ever seen it. When he fisted it, liquid welled at the tip and spilled down over his fingers. It seemed to jump in his hand, and again when he realized what she was doing. He watched her slide off the bed, still nervous but determined, and that hand sped up on his dick. A groan escaped him, loud enough that she found herself going for the buttons on her jeans before he said another word. She even managed to shove them down and off, without thinking too much about her jiggly thighs and her rounded hips.
In fact, she didn’t think about anything, until he spoke.
“Turn around.”
“What? What do you—”
“Turn around, honey. Show me those cute little panties clinging to that peach of an ass.”
“I really don’t think it’s much of a peach. More like a…bag of hammers.”
“Don’t think I’d need to stop myself coming over a bag of hammers.”
She flushed at those words. Partly because they were filthy.
But mostly because she knew they were true. He was as flushed as she felt and so lax looking, sprawled back on the bed like she’d somehow cut all the tendons in his body. One big hand at the base of his cock, squeezing hard enough to make her wince. Then on his balls, tugging and tugging as though that might make the slightest bit of difference.
It didn’t, however. His cock was still leaking streamers of pre-come at the end of all that effort. His hips were still bumping up, as if he could already feel her pussy sinking down on him. And the situation only got worse when she tentatively did as he had asked. He actually moaned once she was standing there with her back to him, clad only in her T-shirt and underwear.
And said things.
Oh, the things.
“Oh fuck, that’s good. Yeah, that’s good. Now just…just bend over a little. Let me see that sweet pussy pouting between your legs. Let me see how wet you’re getting.”
