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Panting, my dick throbbing, I reach for the waistband of my pants and tug. “Bossy.”
“Yeah, well. You’re not the only one with fantasies, you know.” She winks at me.
I blink, frozen mid-motion. “What are you saying?”
“Fantasies with you, Shane Tucker.” She licks her lips. “Didn’t I say you’re hot?”
Huffing a laugh under my breath, I push down my pants and briefs, let them drop to the floor with her clothes. Warmth is seeping into my neck, my face.
“Did you…?” I wave a hand at her, suddenly needing to know and fucking nervous. “Get off thinking of me?”
“Uh-huh.” She runs her hands over her tits, over the colorful bra, and my cock twitches, making me groan. She’s staring at my dick. “God, you’re big. Bigger than I imagined.”
I want to ask what she fantasized about, what she saw me do—but the need to come is more urgent. Grabbing my cock, I drag my fist up and down, once, twice. It’s so wet, my hand slips effortlessly along its length.
Fire sparks, licks at my balls. Feels so damn good.
“Tell me,” she says, breathless. Her hands move in circles over her breasts. “What next? What do you want me to do?”
Christ, this girl. I have to still my hand, squeeze hard the base of my dick to stop from coming. “Take it off,” I rasp, not fucking believing we’re doing this, but fuck, can’t complain. “Take off your bra.”
Have to see her tits. Her nipples. Been imagining them, jerking off to the fantasy of them for too long.
She reaches behind her back, unclasps the bra and takes it off. Then she cups her tits, offering them up to me, the pale green pendant, shaped like a star, hanging between them, her pale pink nipples puckered and hard.
Oh fuck… Smearing more precum from the small slit on the crown down my dick, I pull on it, biting the inside of my cheek not to moan out loud.
“You’re…” I’m panting, my balls drawn up tight, so damn close to coming. “So much prettier than I imagined.”
Her eyes close, her breath hitching. “What next?”
My dick jumps in my hand, and I squeeze again, harder this time. “Your panties. You’re sliding them off, and then…” A groan escapes me, and I tug on my cock once, shivering at the pleasure.
“Then what?” she whispers, sliding her tiny panties off, exposing her shaved pussy to me. Goddammit. So perfect.
“Then you touch yourself. Rub your hand over your
clit.” I swallow hard, dimly wondering if this is the part where she gets up and leaves, slamming the door on her way out. “And you push two fingers inside of you. God…”
Somewhere during my recounting, my hand has started moving faster over my dick, and I knock my head back on the wall, because this is too much.
“Hey.” She leans closer to me, her cool hair slipping over my legs. “Is this okay?”
Takes me a second to understand what she’s asking. I nod, unable to do more, but still okay. No flashback teasing at my senses. No panic.
“You know, I’ve never done anything like this with anyone else,” she says, leaning back again, her eyes uncertain. “Ever.”
Fuck. A sense of joy fills me, but if she’s uneasy… “We could stop—”
“No.” She drags her hand over one breast, and my gaze is torn from her pretty face to her tits, her belly, the dark space between her pale legs. “This is hot, Shane. You’re so hot.”
“I need to touch you,” I hiss. “Be inside you.”
“Need you, too.” Her hand stalls, teasing the nipple, and she gasps. “God, Shane…”
She’s biting her lip. I’m torn between watching the expressions flitting over her face and her hand that’s heading south. Her fingers dip between her folds, and her body arches backward.
I think I’ve stopped breathing.
