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He grinded himself against me, his hard cock against my crotch. He rolled off me to the side, undoing my jeans with one hand before he pushed his hand between my legs. He pressed his fingers against my clit and rubbed me through the lace.
I moaned at the sensation of the rough material against my clit, the friction he created.
“You’re soaking,” he murmured against my lips.
“It’s all you,” I said between gasps as his attention to my clit sent waves of pleasure through my body.
When Troy pushed his fingers into my panties, I cried out. His fingers were slippery right away, and he drew circles around my clit. Slowly, at first, teasing me, and then he picked up his pace.
His hand was wedged between my pants and my crotch, and I wanted him to have more access.
I wanted to be naked for him.
“Wait,” I said, breaking the kiss.
“What is it?” Troy asked.
I wriggled out from underneath him and pushed my jeans over my ass. I dropped them to the floor, removed my top, getting rid of that and the loose bra, too. I stood before Troy in my lace panties only, and his eyes roamed my body.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he said.
I smiled at him, and a blush crept onto my cheeks despite myself. I loved the way his eyes filled with hunger when he looked at me.
“Come here,” Troy said, sitting up.
He took my hand and pulled me forward so that I climbed onto the couch and straddled his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, and I poured myself into the kiss.
I sat down on his cock, grinding myself against it through my panties, through his pants. He pushed up against my clit, and the friction was delicious. If this was what it was like, just on top of each other, still semi-dressed, then I was so ready for whatever would follow. I ran my fingers down his chest, undoing the top two buttons of his button-up before I pushed my fingers onto his warm chest. He was chiseled and sculpted like a god.
“Do you work out?” I asked through our kisses.
Troy chuckled. “What a line.”
“Hmm,” I said, but I’d been serious. His muscles rippled under my fingertips, and I wanted more of him. I wanted to taste every inch of him.
Every. Inch.
Troy’s hands were on my hips, riding the undulating flow with me as I grinded myself against him. I gasped, the friction on my clit sending shock waves through my body, charging me with electricity that would explode into an orgasm.
“You’re still wearing your underwear,” Troy murmured against my lips.
“You’re still dressed,” I replied.
“A gross mistake,” Troy said. He reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head in one movement without unbuttoning it any further.
“Getting there,” he said.
He cupped my breasts. His hands were large and warm, his fingers strong as he kneaded my breasts. My nipples grew erect in his hands, pressing against his palms.
He cupped my ass and leaned forward, standing up. He lifted me with ease, and I squealed, but Troy swallowed it when he kissed me again.
He carried me through his mansion, kissing me all the way, and it was a miracle he didn’t stumble.
When we reached his bedroom—I was aware of dark brown wood and beige sheets and carpets—he dropped me on the mattress. He pulled off his clothes and dumped them on the floor until he stood only in his boxers. His cock strained against his boxers, and I yearned to set it free from its confines.
I sat up. “Much better,” I said. I pulled his boxers back, and his cock sprung up. It was impressive—large and thick and hard, smooth skin stretching along the shaft, and his head slick with lust.
I leaned forward and sucked his head into my mouth.
