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“I’ve been thinking about you constantly,” he says, cutting the silence from me.
I kiss his chest and look up at him.
“Is that right?” I ask.
What’s he getting at? Next thing I know, he’ll be telling me he loves me.
This is just fun. Right? I’m not looking to get married or anything. I’m fine being single.
Except, there’s another side of this. I’ve been thinking about him, too.
A lot.
“I’ve been thinking about all the ways I can fuck you,” he says, running his hand up my skirt.
“That’s funny.”
I breathe as he places his hand over the center of my panties. He runs his fingers across the cotton lace, attempting to find an entrance.
Exhaling, I close my eyes. “I’ve been thinking about all the places you could fuck me in,” I say.
“Yeah? Like where?” he asks. “Tell me all the bad things you’ve been thinking about.”
“Last night,” I moan. His fingers move under my panties, tracing across my skin. “Last night I dreamed about you clearing out one of your hotels. You fucked me in every single room, in every shower, in the indoor pool and sauna. I came repeatedly.”
“That’s hot,” he groans. I place my hand across his pants, feeling for his cock. He’s already hard for me.
He looks down and unzips his pants. “I want you to ride me like it’s yours to keep forever.”
“It’s too big,” I whisper. “It’ll hurt me.”
“Exactly,” he says. “I want you to train your pussy to accept every inch of me, every single time. You think you can handle that?”
I pull out his throbbing flesh. It lays thick and solid against both of my palms. I gulp down and nod. “I have to try, right?”
I bite my lip.
“That’s right,” he says, sliding two fingers inside of me. “You do.”
He pushes me against the glass, and my palms fall across the surface again, sliding across it. I smudge the window, defiling it. But he doesn’t seem to care.
He rips my shirt off, buttons soaring across the room. Shocked, I gasp.
“You said you like it hard,” he says. “Should I be gentle?”
“No,” I whisper. “No, I like this, maybe too much.”
My shirt falls to the floor, and he unhooks my bra. I let that fall, too.
He traces his fingers above my clit, pressing his palm against my lips to feel me. Three fingers roll inside. Within seconds, he’s deep, down to the knuckles.
His other hand unzips my black skirt.
“You look so formal today,” he says. “I like it.”
I swallow. “I had a feeling you would,” I say, feeling the small thud of his knees dropping to the floor.
He rolls my skirt and bites at the elastic band of my panties. He pulls them toward my ankles, rolling the fabric past my feet.
