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Exactly like a predator too.
Although falls on me is a wrong statement.
He mostly falls on the bed.
Goes flat on his abdomen as he resumes parting my legs until I’m almost doing a split. And then with his rough, scrape-y hands on my thighs, he… stares.
At my pussy.
And the fact that I’m on display for him like that makes me arch my hips and bite my lip again.
It makes me blush something fierce.
For the past two weeks, I’ve imagined this moment several times. Me going to his motel; me confessing my crush to him; and then me telling him what we need to do to purge it.
I always knew that there was going to be a kiss.
And then, of course, sex.
But every time I got to the sex part, I could never ever imagine it clearly. And it’s not as if I haven’t read any books or seen any movies. I have and I also masturbate like a normal girl. So I couldn’t figure out why.
I can now.
It’s because I never could’ve imaginedthis.
I never could’ve imagined lying on his motel bed, with him between my thighs.
Or that he’d be lying on his stomach and I’d be looking down at his dark head, his rippling shoulders, his upper back morphing into muscled hills.
As braced on his elbows, he…gazes.
At the place between my thighs.
With such focus and concentration and God,devotion.
And I was already so wet from his biting kisses.
I was so drenched and sloppy, but now under his scrutiny, I become wetter.
I feel a drop of my juice sliding out of my hole and he growls.
It’s so deep that the bed rumbles with it.
And I love that so much that I arch my hips even harder, feeling a couple more drops leaking out. As if I’m a glass full of lust and my juices are running over. And then I jump because he rubs his thumb there, right at my hole, right at the center of my pussy.
“I knew it,” he rasps.
“Knew what?” I whisper, looking down at his thoughtful frown.
He keeps staring at my pussy,examiningit. “That you’d be this tight.”
I jump again because his words are accompanied by a push of his thumb in my hole.
Only a slight push though.
As if testing the waters.
“I-I… Guys l-like that, don’t they?”
