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His fingers move back down to my wet pussy, and I feel him slide a finger in between my lips. A fresh stream of juices spills out and down the side of my leg. I’m so fucking wet that I’m going to form my own Great Lake on the dance floor: Lake Sexy Bitch.
I’ve always been a sexy bitch—that’s never been a question—but even I have to admit I look good enough to make the Devil rise up from Hell and ask for my number.
Fuck—if the Devil looked like Viggo Mortensen or Elizabeth Hurley, you can best believe they’d be getting my number, too.
I shudder as his teeth drag across my neck.
The feeling of my clit being massaged between two fingers sends a jolt up my spine.
This guy is hitting all my good spots.
I reach down and grab his shaft through his pants as his reward, while his finger flicks at my clit.
A moan hisses between my teeth.
Suddenly, his finger slides up inside me, and I lean my head back against him.
It’s shit like this that keeps me—or kept me—from getting married. You don’t have this kind of fun with a husband.
A big ball of foam flies by my face, making me feel like I’ve been slapped in the face with a leather glove.
I hear music ringing through my ears, but it isn’t what’s being played right now. It’s still Eurotrash music mind you, but that’s beside the point.
It is the music that was being played when we were all here last night.
Music that played while...
