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He’s making me hot and bothered. That’s what he’s doing. My wet panties are accumulating the evidence.
“Shit!” he whisper-shouts. “Evelyn, is this what you want?”
I pause, my hand stilling around his cock, as he lifts his head from the crook of my neck and searches my features. He removes the glasses from my face and sets them aside.
He waits for me to respond.
“I don’t know what I want,” I say without a thought.
“Me neither.”
Our breaths slow in unison as a slight seriousness takes over the mood.
“I don’t want to stop,” I add as I begin to push down his boxers and pants together.
“Neither do I.”
“You’re very agreeable.” I laugh.
He releases an adorable grin. “Only on special occasions.”
“And this qualifies?”
“It’s notable.”
Foster pushes back from the bed, undoes my pants, and slides them down and off my legs. He then slips off my panties.
“I guess that part didn’t get a new dye job,” he teases, referring to my non-tinted but well-groomed trail.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
“Not really. I’m more surprised it doesn’t match your hair.”
“There’s not much there to dye.”
“Touché.”
Quickly, he drops his pants and boxers to the ground and then steps out of them and toward the bureau. There, he opens the top drawer, searching hastily through the contents. When he returns to me, he tosses a condom on the bed and then begins to crawl over my waiting form.
“That’s quite an impressive beaker you have,” I say in the most non-seductive way possible.
“You were checking out my instrument?” he questions, dragging his mouth north of my hip to my breast.
“Just doing my research.”
Hovering, he kisses me on the mouth a few times, almost like he’s still making sure I’m not backing out. I realize that I need to make the first move. I reach to the side of the mattress, find the condom, and tear it open. Making my intentions known, I nudge his shoulder, so he’s lying on his back. Sitting up, I roll the latex contraceptive over his instrument and then straddle him.
“So, what do you think?” I question.
Confusion crosses his face. “About what?”
I tease his length with my sex, gyrating over his lower body. “My tits? They’re pretty great, right?”
“Your tits are fucking amazing.”
“Just checking.”
Taking control, Foster rolls us over, so he’s on top, demanding missionary position. I’m not complaining one bit.
