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My heart aches at her confession, but my cock doesn’t allow me to stop. My finger continues thrusting in and out of her, pushing her over the edge. I should take my time cherishing her, and making her feel taken care of, but I can’t allow myself to pretend I have what it takes to stop before I go too far. This is all I have to offer. A good time on top of a pool table, in the middle of a biker bar.
We can’t be anything more than quick and easy fun.
Stella deserves all the hearts and flowers. She deserves a husband, children, and unconditional love. I am not any of those things and I never will be. I don’t want that. As much as this moment right here is trying to confuse me, my head is screwed on too strong.
I’m already suffering from withdrawals, and I still have her in my arms. I need to reel this in quickly.
I slowly enter another finger and her orgasm builds until she’s just about to explode around me. I quicken my pace, fiercely rubbing her clit as my fingers curve inside of her. She’s so fucking tight as her pussy pulses around me.
“I’m going to come!” she cries out just as her orgasm ripples through her.
My mouth aches to catch her pleasurable cries, to taste the sweet flavor of her tongue, but I’m already so close to giving in that would only ensure I’m pushed over the edge.
Instead, I shove my fingers coated in her arousal into her mouth and instinctively she sucks. Pulling them out of her with a pop, I take them in my mouth, tasting her. She is perfect. So sweet and intoxicating.
I’m so fucking screwed.
