Her confession hits me like a shot of pure lust.
I find the zipper on her crop top and drag it down slowly, savoring how the fabric parts. It slips off her body and pools at her feet, and the skirt follows a second later. Now she’s standing before me in nothing but that bright purple wig, a tiny thong, neon green fishnet tights, and those pink platform heels that make her legs look endless.
I can’t stop staring.
She smiles, slow and a little feral, then kicks off her heels, peels off her tights, and finally her thong. When she’s fully naked, my throat goes dry. She’s flushed everywhere, nipples tight, chest rising and falling rapidly.
The wig is next. She tosses it across the room, then sinks gracefully to her knees.
My brain goes blank instantly.
She looks up at me through thick lashes as her fingers hook into my shorts and boxer briefs, pulling them down my thighs in one rough tug. My cock springs free, heavy and throbbing.
“Look at you,” she murmurs, dragging her tongue along the underside from base to tip, circling the piercing. “So hard for me already… and leaking. I can taste how much you need this.”
She hums around the head, sucking lightly, her tongue flicking the barbell until my knees threaten to buckle. I grip the wall behind me with one hand, the other threading gently through her hair. Not guiding her—just needing to feel her.
She takes me deeper, slow and torturous, until the head bumps the back of her throat. She holds it there, her throat fluttering around me, eyes watering but locked on mine. Thenshe pulls off with a wet sound, gasping, spit glistening on her lips and chin.
“Such a good girl,” I rasp, my thumb brushing her lower lip. “Taking me so deep. You like choking on my cock, don’t you?”
She moans at the praise, eyes fluttering, then swallows me again. This time, she works what she can’t fit with her hand, using tight, twisting strokes. The diamond on her finger catches the moonlight with each movement, sparkling as she works me.
It’s the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen.
When she moans around my length, the vibration surges through every nerve, drawing a broken, helpless groan from my chest.
Sienna starts a steady rhythm—long, dragging pulls that let me feel every inch of her warm tongue, every flick against the piercing, every twist of her hand around my base. Her other hand slides up my thigh and cups my balls, rolling them gently before pressing that sensitive spot behind them until white sparks explode behind my eyelids.
My hand glides from her hair to her cheek, brushing strands back from her face, then traces along her jaw and neck. I can’t stop touching her. She leans into each caress as if she needs constant skin-to-skin contact as much as I do.
My hips jerk forward involuntarily when she sucks hard on the head, her tongue flicking over the slit in mesmerizing strokes.
“Sienna… fuck,” I grit out, tipping my head back. “You keep doing that, and I’m gonna come down your throat.”
I feel her smile against me. That was her plan all along. AndGod fucking damn it, if that doesn’t make me lose it right then and there.
She takes me deeper, hollowing her cheeks, sucking harder. My balls tighten, my cock swelling against her tongue, and with a low, guttural groan, I come hard down her throat.
The first pulse is powerful. She swallows greedily, then pulls back just enough to catch the rest on her tongue. Thick ropes paint her face, dripping from her chin.
The sight of her marked by me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Before she can catch her breath, I grip her under the arms and pull her up. She comes willingly. Then I crash my mouth to hers in a deep, desperate kiss. She moans into it, pressing her cum-smeared breasts against my chest, smearing my release between us.
Her arms snake around my neck as I lift her, and she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her to the couch.
When I lay her down, I hover above her and finally take off the ridiculous neon green wig. Then my hands explore her again because I cannot seem to get enough.
I cup her breasts, my thumbs brushing her tight nipples until she arches with a soft gasp. I pinch them lightly, then roll them between my fingers, savoring each reaction.
Breaking the kiss, my lips trail down her body—jaw, throat, chest, nipples—before settling between her thighs. I hook her legs over my shoulders and press open-mouthed kisses along her trembling skin, trailing higher until my tongue drags broad, slow strokes through her folds.
She’s soaked.
I groan at the taste of her and dive in, focusing on her clit first. I suck it between my lips while sliding two fingers deep inside her, curling them against her G-spot. Her hips buck wildly against my face.
A growl rumbles from the back of my throat, the vibration traveling straight through her. I keep going—tongue flicking, fingers thrusting, one hand reaching up to tug and roll her perfect, rosy nipple.
