Fuck, do I feel the same kind of need pulsing through me, but it’s actually all going right to my aching cock.
“Truth or dare?” I ask, my voice growing deeper, the humor of this game washing away with my answer.
“Truth,” she answers, surprising me.
I sink deeper into the water as I try to come up with something to ask her. “What position would you want me to bend you into the first time I sink myself inside you?”
Her teeth roll over the corner of her lip as her eyes remain on mine. The energy between us grows, the tension stringing us together tightly, and she moves in closer to me until our knees are knocking. She brings her hand to my chest, her fingers grazing over my pec, the touch so light that it almost doesn’t register, but because I’m so hot for her, so in need of her, it feels like she’s burning a figure eight over my skin.
“I wouldn’t care,” she answers. “As long as you fucked me hard and made me come, I’d take any position.”
“Do you think I could fuck you hard?” I ask.
“That’s two questions.”
“Just answer it,” I say, but she floats around me and whispers, “Truth or dare?”
Her hand glides over my chest, around my shoulder as I say, “Dare.”
I can almost feel her smile as she lines up right behind me, her hand sliding down to my hip. Her tits press against my back and her arm wraps around my stomach as she whispers into my ear, “I dare you to let me stroke you ten times.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat as my legs practically shake with excitement underwater.
“Stroke me where?”
“You…know…where,” she says, pressing a kiss to my neck.
“Jesus, have at it, love,” I say while her hand glides down my stomach, right above my cock.
“You sure?”
“More than positive,” I answer, all my blood pooling between my goddamn legs.
“Good.” One hand slides over my stomach and the other grips my erection.
“Fuuuck,” I say, my stomach hollowing.
She starts at the base of my cock and gently, barely holding me, drags her hand up my length and then back down.
“One,” she says.
I won’t be able to take it if that’s the pressure she applies.
She repeats the movement.
“Two.”
Again.
“Three.”
And again.
“Four.”
I groan, needing her to do so much more.
“Harder,” I rasp.
