My gaze jerks back to hers. “What?”
“I’m not wearing panties,” she says, making my throbbing balls drag even heavier between my legs at the thought of her pussy bare beneath that fabric. “I couldn’t find my thong, and a normal panty line looked horrible with the silhouette, so I just…went without.”
“Dirty girl.” I try to slip back into my teasing role, but I’m too turned on to be convincing. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Pull my jumpsuit down around my thighs and fuck me from behind?” She bites her lip again, a hungry sound escaping her throat as I pinch her nipples tight between fingers and thumbs. “Show me what happens to dirty girls who don’t wear panties around big, bad men?”
“Turn around,” I grit out, my cock already starting to leak. “Hands on the wall.”
When she doesn’t move fast enough, I grip her by the hips, turning her myself, summoning a sharp gasp from her lips. But the sound is followed by an eager moan, proving I’m giving her exactly what she wants as I jerk her jumpsuit off her shoulders and shove it down, down, until her firm ass pops free, and I’m free to slide a hand between her legs.
“Fuck,” I murmur into her hair as I tease through her hot, slick folds. “Youarea dirty girl, aren’t you? How long have you been dripping for me?”
“All day,” she breathes, pushing back against me. “All day. I’m so bad.”
“So bad,” I agree, ripping open my jeans with my free hand. “And now you’re going to get fucked hard. Right here against the wall.”
After just a few days as her lover, I’ve learned that Clover loves firm pressure, dirty talk, and feeling me come inside her, a thing that would be dangerous if it weren’t for her IUD, but which I’ve realized I love every bit as much.
Almost as much as I love feeling her pussy lock around me with nothing between us as I glide inside her…
But I don’t glide today, I don’t ease in.
I part her outer lips, position myself, and shove deep, in one sharp thrust, summoning another gasp from my girl as I grip her hips, pulling her back against me until I bottom out.
She’s tight—so tight it’s a physical challenge to pull back at first—but I don’t let up. I pull out until I’m at the tip and then drive back in, finding a deep, heavy rhythm that makes the concrete under my boots feel like it’s vibrating.
Clover braces her hands on the wall, fingers splayed, shoulder muscles straining as she pushes back into me. Every time I slam forward, she slams back, her breath hitching, fueling the fire coiling in my gut.
I’m not going to last long. Not long at all.
Which means, I need to take care of her sooner rather than later…
I reach around, my fingers digging into her hip bones for a beat, wishing I’d realized what perfect handles they are for dragging her back into my cock sooner. Next time, I promise myself as I find her clit, working my fingers in deep, urgent circles that match the increasingly frantic rhythm of our thrusts.
“Oh, God,” she sobs, her trembling voice a beautiful thing. “Yes, Dean, yes. Right there. I’m so close, so close…”
“I can feel it, baby. Feel how close you are to coming for me.” I drag my teeth over her shoulder as she arches her back and spreads her legs a little more, giving me even more freedom to hammer into her. “So come for me, Clover. Come on my cock while I fill you up.”
“Yes, yes!” She cries out, her inner walls beginning to spasm and clench.
Jaw clenched and heart slamming in my chest, I give her everything I’ve got, the pro athlete in me taking over, determined to leave it all on the field. I shove deeper, harder, my thumb never leaving her clit, until she cries out again, her knees buckling as I take her there a second time.
And fuck, it’s even more intense, a violent, beautiful clench that sends me over with her. I shove in one last time, as deep as I can, and let go.
I come for what feels like an age, an eon, every cell jolting with the force of the release. I give her every drop, exactly the way she wants, exactly the way we both need, until we’re spent, limp, and sagging together against the wall next to the recycling bins.
“Wow,” I murmur once I’m capable of speech.
“We should do that again very soon,” she agrees.
I lean my forehead against the back of her head, smiling as I kiss her sweat-slick neck. “But with less sour sugar on me. I can smell my hair again, and it’s…pretty awful.”
She laughs, a sound that turns into a moan as the contraction of her inner muscles forces my softening cock half out of her. “No, don’t leave. Come back.”
“I will,” I promise. “After I’ve showered.”
Slowly, I pull out the rest of the way, tucking myself into my jeans before helping her guide her jumpsuit back up and over her arms. We both need to shower and change, we really do, butI can’t help lingering over her zipper, dragging it slowly back into place with a wistful sigh.
