She presses me back, directing me toward the bed. I let her, allowing my legs to hit the edge before I sit down. My hands move to wrap around her upper thighs and butt. Her fingers start tracing my facial features, around my mouth and ears, like she’s mapping me.
I want to confess everything to her now—why I call her Cupcake; why I never tried to contact her, even when she had a miscarriage and got divorced and I knew she was hurting because her mom told me. I want to tell her that I ruined her prom with Will because I couldn’t take seeing them together, but that I’m so sorry for being such a dick instead of making her life easier when they moved here.
But I don’t say any of it. Instead, I graze my hands down theside of her thighs and push her dress up to her hips before sliding my hand between her legs. She’s gazing down at me with sensual eyes. She gasps when my fingers brush over her lips on top of her panties.
“So wet for me, baby,” I whisper, feeling it soaked through.
She whimpers, using her hands to brace herself on my shoulders. This is all I want to do all night—watch her face as I bring her pleasure. It’s a fantasy come to life, and I can’t make it go any slower. I’m torturing her with my movements, giving her barely enough friction to stimulate her, but not enough to come.
She has to wait for that. I need her to beg me for it.
Her fingers tighten on my shoulders, and her lips part. She inhales before groaning in frustration. My fingers speed up, barely, and I add a tiny bit of pressure, focusing on the sensitive bead of her clit. I’m still letting the fabric separate our skin, so I gently lift the side of the thong and slide underneath to her bare flesh.
She shuts her eyes, letting her head fall back. My fingers explore her, sliding over her pussy to drag her wetness forward and circle her clit again. She’s breathing faster, her chest rising and falling. Her nipples are poking through the thin fabric of her dress, so I reach up my free hand and pull it down. Her breasts pop out, pretty pink nipples begging for my mouth. She lets out a moan when I capture one with my lips—her position, with her standing in front of me as I sit on the bed, the perfect level.
I pull her nipple between my teeth, biting down gently and sucking. My fingers are still circling her clit lazily, but I finally move directly over it, rubbing her from side to side. She starts shaking, her thighs squeezing together. She moves one hand to bury it in my hair and hugs me tighter to her chest. The other stays on my shoulder for support. I use my free arm to pull herleg up, holding it higher to give me better access to her sweet pussy.
She’s getting close. Her chest is flushed, nipples puckering. I switch sides, sucking the other one into my lips and igniting another sharp gasp from her lips. She wants it; I know she wants me to make her come.
So, I let her. I increase the speed of my fingers and suck harder on her nipple until her legs squeeze tighter. I hold her still and don’t slow my movements, eyes trained on her face until she cries out.
The waves of pleasure roll off of her. She tightens, muscles clamping up as I milk the orgasm from her body, and she grows limp and slumps into me. I remove my hand from between her thighs and draw her into me, rubbing her back in slow movements.
I’m rock hard, but I need to make sure she’s okay before we move further. Last time I gave her an orgasm, she panicked. If she wants to stop now, I’m perfectly content to spend the rest of the night holding her.
I just hope she doesn’t tell me not to touch her again.
I cup the back of her head, inhaling the scent of her arousal and the sea-salt coconut in her shampoo. She pushes back and looks at me, licking her lips.
“My turn.” She drops down to her knees.
Summer’s on her knees.
I’m done for. My chest heats as I watch her reach for the buttons of my shirt first. She wants to see me. I let her do it, watching each button slip out until she shoves it off my shoulders. I don’t move, letting her play. It’s only fair since she gave me a turn.
My forearms are on the bed, still trapped in the shirt, but she’s grown impatient and moved down to the button of my pants. I could watch her do this all night. I’ve waited thirteenyears, but apparently, she’s ready for menow.I grin at her impatience.
She drags my zipper down before her delicate hand reaches for my waistband. She tugs, and I lift my hips. She yanks my pants and underwear down to my knees. Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head when she sees my fully hard cock.
She licks her lips.
She licks her lips.
Then her hand wraps fully around my sensitive flesh, and I whimper from the burst of sensual pleasure that ripples through my limbs. I’m finally feeling her touch, finally experiencing the fantasy I’ve replayed in my imagination for so many years. The relief is nearly instant.
I’m not going to come until I’m inside her. I’m focused on trying not to confess how many times I’ve pictured her just like this, on her knees with wide, aroused eyes. I reach forward, grabbing her hair.
I have no idea how to take it down, but I need it spilling around her shoulders for this part. I need my hand buried at the roots, holding on.
She rubs her hand up and down my erection, twisting slightly before she lets go and spits on it.
She spit on it.
I find a pin in her hair and start picking them out one by one. She laughs, reaching her free hand up to help me until her honey waves come cascading down her shoulders. I groan before threading my fingers through her hair at the base of her neck and holding on tight. My eyes drift closed.
Her wet tongue sweeps over the tip of my cock, and I nearly come undone. My eyes pop back open, lasering in on her lips, which are currently wrapped around my dick. The light from the moon is shining into the studio, illuminating us just enough.
“Keep sucking me like that … make me forget my name.”
