He passes it to me and then his hands are immediately on me. Stroking my thighs, grabbing handfuls of my ass, sliding up my front and cupping my breasts. It’s like he can’t decide which part of my body to hold. It feels hungry and exploratory and a little chaotic. It feels like he can’t get enough of me and that concept has me feeling more than a little muddled. It has me fumbling to open the condom wrapper and resorting to using my teeth to tear into it.
Charlie watches me as his hands play almost absent-mindedly with my nipples, but there’s nothing casual or lazy about the way it makes me feel. Electricity shoots from my nipples down to my cunt and I start rocking my hips.
“The way you move, Mina,” Charlie says.
“You want me to move like this on you?” I ask.
He nods and pinches my nipple so hard I gasp and bow my back. I swat his hands away from my body. I need to concentrate to put this condom on him. I need to have my wits about me if I’m going to stay in control.
Because that’s what I need. I need to be in charge as Charlie fucks me. I need to know I am in control.
Gripping his dick with one hand, and after it wobbles around at the top a little, I manage to get the condom in place and slide it down his length. Keeping my body up so he can see it, I place a hand between my legs and stroke my pussy. I’m wet, plenty wet enough, but just to be sure, I put my two middle fingers in my mouth and suck on them. Feeling Charlie’s stare on me as I then move that hand back between my legs, I play with my swollen clit until his fingers start digging into my waist, like he’s itching to be inside me, like he can’t wait any longer.
But he knows. He knows I’m in control. Even if he’s fucking me. Even if he’s inside my body, I’m the one calling the shots.
I don’t know why it’s so important that he knows this, that he respects this, but it is.
“Are you ready to be inside me, Charlie?” I ask, my hand back on his dick, squeezing the base so he’s pointing straight up just centimetres from me.
“So fucking ready,” Charlie says on a big exhale.
I move so I’m directly above his penis.
“Mina,” he says, warns, when I hesitate.
“Beg for it, Charlie,” I tell him.
For a split second I think he’s going to refuse me, to maybe even tell me off for having the audacity. But he doesn’t. He looks up at me, eyes wide and his fingertips still gripping my waist tight, and he begs.
“Please, Mina, please. I want to fuck you so much. I need to be inside you. I need to feel you. Please let me fuck you.”
“You need to be inside me?” I ask.
“Yes.” He pants.
“You want to feel how wet and warm I am?”
“Fuck, yes,” he says and he thrusts up into my hand. I move my pussy back an inch.
“You want to know how it feels when I come on your dick?”
“Please, Mina, I—” Charlie tries again, but I silence him by sliding down his full length and what he is about to say morphs into a slow, low groan.
“Fuck,” I say, closing my eyes, because it feels just as good to me. But I don’t savour it as long as I want to because I have to deliver on my promise. So, I start moving.
I roll my hips back and forward. I feel the stretch of him as I bring my legs a little closer together on either side of his body. I feel just how deep he is inside me as I grind down on him, finding some pressure on my clit. I feel him thrust up into me, a little hesitantly, like he knows he needs my permission.
“Mina, you feel so good,” Charlie tells me and I don’t respond. Instead, I rock my hips a little harder as I feel a bead of sweat snake down my back.
“You look fucking incredible,” he says and still I don’t say anything. My breathing is now hurried and shallow and the angle I’m rocking into has all sorts of delicious pressure on my clit and I chase it, chase it, chase it.
“You feel just as good as I imagined you would,” Charlie says after a few minutes of me riding him in earnest. I’m breathless with exertion as I look down at him and one of his hands come around the back of my neck and squeezes me there.
And I lose it. I lose the thread of my impending orgasm. I lose my rhythm. I lose all my energy and stamina and strength. Putting my hands on Charlie’s chest, my shoulders drop as my body sinks in on itself.
For a long time, Charlie doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything apart from stroke the back of my neck, his fingers playing with my hair.
“Mina,” he says eventually.
