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“The same way I look at you. With white-hot desire,” he says, then he grips the base of his dick, rubs it against my wet folds, and pushes up into me.
Oh, hello, Pleasure. It’s been a while, but it’s so very good to see you again.
It’s been so long that it’s almost a new sensation, but I know exactly what to do with it. I set my hands on his pecs, rocking my hips, swaying, swiveling. Finding a pace instantly.
West doesn’t look away. He gazes at my face, stroking his thumb over my cheek, giving me compliments, endless compliments.
And I inhale them like oxygen.
“So sexy,” he says. A hand slides down my chest, gripping my right breast. Squeezing it.
I bow my back as lust ripples through me.
“Your tits are fucking perfect, Gigi. Such a fantastic handful,” he groans, his other hand joining the party.
Squeezing and kneading my breasts as I rise and fall, as I writhe and rock. As we moan and groan together. He’s so deep in me, so far, and he fucks up into me, filling me.
His hand coasts lower, over my belly button, his thumb reaching my clit.
The second he touches me, I scream in pleasure.
I’m so sensitive, so aroused already, and as he strokes and rubs, fucks and grinds, I am lost. Lost in the pleasure, just like I was lost in his voice mere hours ago. With his fingers and his cock working in tandem, he coaxes another orgasm out of me as I tremble, shaking, falling apart on my handsome stranger.
Who barely feels like a stranger at all.
He feels like a brand-new lover.
The kind who’ll send me dirty missives.
Who’ll tell me how much he longed for my body while he was at work, in his corner office, overseeing money or gold or whatever he does in those suits.
Mostly, he feels like the kind of lover who wants more than one time.
That’s what I want too.
And I want more this very second.
West makes me ravenous, and I’m a greedy woman tonight.
He slides his hands into my hair, pulls my face close to his, and whispers, dark and dirty, “Get on your hands and knees now. I need to fuck you hard and ruthlessly.”
“I love ruthless fucking. So much.” I slide off him, flipping over and into the position he wants.
He kneels behind me, those big hands curling over my ass, spreading me open. He runs the head of his cock through my wetness and slides back inside, filling me.
It’s such a decadent position, such a submissive position. It makes me feel like an animal, and I love it. I love the rawness of it. And I love the way he can own my body like this.
West needs no ownership manual. He knows what to do.
As I lower my chest towards the bed, propped on my elbows, he slides his hand down my spine, towards my neck. He grips my hair and tugs hard as he buries his cock inside me.
He is relentless. Ruthless. Dominating and dirty, as he fucks and fucks and fucks. Grabbing my strands, making me yelp.
He slides his hand the other direction, on a fast-track for my ass, and I turn my face, needing to watch.
“That’s right. Watch me, love. Watch as I smack this beautiful ass,” he says, lifting his hand, bringing it down hard on my rear.
I yelp, the pain radiating, morphing into pleasure, incomparable pleasure.
He lifts his other hand, smacks my other cheek, hard and punishing.
“Yes,” I whimper into the bed.
“Your skin is so beautiful. It wears my marks so well,” he rasps.
“Do it again,” I say, urging him on. But he needs no urging.
Another smack. Another sharp zing of pleasure.
The Sex Ninja brings his other hand back to my clit, pinches it, then drives deep inside me.
I am a whimpering mess of pleasure and just the right amount of pain, as my body gives in and I come once again on an epic cry of oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
But this time I’m not alone. This time he joins me with a guttural groan. “So fucking hot,” he roars as he unleashes his pleasure, and we fall apart together.
As we pant and moan, he sweeps a kiss across my neck. “And that was the best game of the night.”
“Yes.” I sigh. “Best. Game. Ever.”
Then, he gets up to dispose of the condom in my bathroom and returns seconds later, settling next to me, his warm body snug against mine. Mmm. This feels so good.
This post-sex high.
It makes me picture possibilities.
More nights like this, more moments rich with rat-a-tat-tat banter, one-up-manship wit, dirty Scrabble. Maybe even Strip Dungeons and Dragons.
Is that a thing?
If not, it should be. I bet West would play it.
I bet he’d love to play it with me.
West is no Theodore. He’s no slide-shaming dipshit.
