I would slide down those leggings you always wear. What color are your panties today? Still fond of lace?
Rina:
Jesus fuck… Pink lace today…
I adjust myself under my desk, distantly wondering if this is the right move, but it feels fartoo late to stop.
Me:
I’d slide that pink lace to the side, keeping them on to frame that fucking perfect ass of yours, before sliding my tongue where you really want it.
Rina:
Then what?
I smirk. I’ve got her right on the edge. And I’d bet all the money in my back account that she has her hand down her pants right now.
Me:
I’d tease the fuck out of you. Not letting you come yet. That would be too easy.
Me:
Is your hand down your pants?
Rina:
Fuck you, you know it is.
Me:
Rub that clit for me, Rina. Get worked up for me.
Rina:
You’re so cocky. You talk a big game, Arlo, but how do I know you can actually do all this inreal life?
Me:
I seem to remember knowing exactly how to get you off every single time, Marina.
Rina:
Don’t fucking call me that, or I’ll call off this arrangement before it starts.
I shift my hand to my hard cock, squeezing in an attempt to stave off my impending orgasm just from her words. She may hate me, but she still knows what I can do to her body.
Me:
But then you wouldn’t feel my cock inside of you again. Wouldn’t feel the stretch as you take all of me while I pinch your clit and make you come all over me. Wouldn’t have the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had.
Rina:
Cocky asshole…
Me:
You just had a good orgasm, though. Don’t even deny it.
