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“Do you want to be my pet?”

“Fuck no.” I shake my head. “I just want to be…” Yours.

Pussy!

I clear my throat.

“Open to your suggestions.”

“Well, then I suggest we finish what we started.” Her hands resume their roaming, except this time below my neck.

“I got you to finish. Twice.”

“Did you finish though?”

“No.” I’m surprised I didn’t. The whole thing was a test of my restraint.

“I can fix that.”

“Not when you’re drunk.” I gather her hands and place them on her stomach.

“So drink. If you’re drunk too, it doesn’t count.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

“I want to fuck you.” So bad it hurts. “But I don’t want to be drunk the first time I fuck you. I don’t want either of us to be.”

“We don’t have to have sex. I can use my hand.” She raises it for consideration.

“I’ll let you put my dick anywhere you want…when you’re sober.”

I push off the bed and head for the bathroom.

“What if I use my hand on myself?”

When I glance over my shoulder, the covers have been pushed down and Kota’s using that hand to lift the bottom of my hoodie. Naughty girl isn’t wearing anything underneath, not even panties.

After tossing the rag somewhere in the bathroom, I turn around to give her my full, undivided attention.

“What do you got there?” I question, eyes glued to the pussy I could draw blindfolded.

“I think you know.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“Tell you what?”

“Everything.”

My feet lead me back over to the bed but I can’t sit on it. I probably shouldn’t even be this close, otherwise I’ll end up balls deep in Kota before I know it.

Without taking my gaze off her, I drag a chair over, still a good few feet away, and sit in it, knees out wide to give my cock room to grow.

“Like what?”

“Like what you’re feeling, what you’re picturing.”