I love you.
She pushes her hand beneath the waistband of my sweats and under my briefs, cupping my balls. My heart speeds up, the clock malfunctioning. The heel of her palm rubs against the underside of my dick as she fondles my balls and guides me back toward the couch.
"I slide my fingers across my clit and think about how you could bend me over here." She takes her hand from my pants, and I grit my teeth. "How good it would feel as you railed me from behind."
I'm frenzied as I unbutton her jeans, sliding both them and her panties off her hips and pulling her closer to me. I love how tall she is, how easy it makes it to trail my tongue down her neck and along her collar bone, tracing the script that I now know reads:
'Despite it all'
"God, I'm so fucking wet just thinking about it."
Speech eludes me. Any words would likely be incoherent. But also, I don't want her to stop.
"If it's too soon," she says and trails off.
Too soon?
Oh hell no.
I spin her around, shoving my hand between her legs. She wasn't lying, she's so fucking wet. I press two fingers to her clit, and she moans leaning back into me.
"Is this how you do it?" I ask against her ear.
"Just like that, yes. Fuck."
I turn us to face the arm of the couch.
"Look how fucking hot we are," she says, and I follow where she points to a mirror opposite where we stand. She reaches back looping one arm around my neck and slides her free hand over mine. Her directions are simple, pushing my hand deeper between her legs. I pump my fingers inside her. In the mirror, she plays with her clit.
Fucking halfway.
"Rail me, Mateo. Fuck me so I can watch."
My eyes meet hers in the mirror as I pull my fingers from her pussy and suck them clean.
Her eyes darken, and her lashes flutter.
"So fucking hot," she says.
I finish pulling my pants off, kicking them to the side, while she finishes taking hers off and removes her top, tossing it on the floor. Our clothes litter the apartment, haphazardly thrown or kicked.
Only her bra remains, red lace cradling her full tits. I almost don't want to free them. The picture in front of me is so fucking perfect. She's right, we're hot.
Her body fits perfectly with mine.
"This, draw this. We're art Storm Cloud. You and me. Look how well you fit in my arms. See how perfect my snake coils around your throat," I tell her, sliding my fingers around her neck.
She inhales sharply, and I urge her forward, forcing her to bend when her legs hit the arm of the couch. She catches herself withher hands and her back arches. Her attention stays on us in the mirror as I slide my cock between her slick folds.
She licks her lips, and I release her throat to unclip her bra, sliding the straps down her arms. Her tits fall, no longer constricted by the lace. I cup one in my hands, rolling her nipple between my fingers.
"I think my house," I say guiding my dick into her waiting pussy, "needs lots of mirrors."
"Harder," she says. I don't know if she means fuck her harder or pinch harder so I do both. She mews. Fucking mews. My hard as nails Storm Cloud is soft beneath my hands.
"Yes," she cries. "This is even better than I imagined."
"How often?" I ask, digging my fingers into her plush hips.
