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“I want your tongue,” she breathes.
“In your pussy?” I ask.
“Yes please,” she answers.
I splay my hands on each side of her pussy and open it up like a flower in spring. I inhale sharply at the sight of her pussy leaking juices. I take a single swipe, and Mila lets out a scream. And another and another.
“Fuck, Brad.”
Mila is a talker, and I like that. It makes me hornier if that is possible. Dark desire barrels through my body as she reacts to every lick and kiss. My finger explores the depths of her pussy before I add another one, and she grips them with her muscles.
I wrap my tongue around her clit as I finger fuck her, and Mila goes wild. She grabs my hair and my shoulders. Anything she can touch. Then she grips the mattress on each side as if for anchorage. When her pussy begins contracting, and Mila starts to whimper, I know she’s close to coming.
“Come for me babe,” I urge her.
Her pussy clenches.
“Fuck. Yes,” Mila cries.
She shudders around my fingers. Before she recovers, I withdraw my fingers and replace them with my cock. I line it up with the soaked entrance to her pussy. I lift Mila’s legs and place them on my shoulders. I fight the urge to plunge my cock into her pussy in one movement.
Instead, inch by inch, my cock disappears into her pussy.
“This is torture,” Mila says. “My pussy’s on fire.”
Sweat drips down my face. Keeping this pace, controlling my urges is taking every bit of willpower I possess. I’m excruciatingly slow, and she raises her body to hasten it. I withdraw my cock in leaving only the tip.
“Why did you do that?” she tries to glare at me.
“I want to teach you some patience.” I can barely speak.
She giggles. “You don’t look so patient yourself.”
I grin. She’s right. I can’t do it again, and I plunge my cock in. Mila circles her hips around my cock. I grab her legs, lift them off my shoulders, and push them forward almost to her chest while keeping them together. Her eyes widen and glaze over as she feels every ridge of my cock. Her pussy is like a sheath around my cock. Every movement is magnified in this angle. I feel the muscles of her pussy, and I can tell that she can feel when my cock throbs.
“You like that, babe?” I growl.
“I love it.” Her voice is throaty.
My thrusts are slow and controlled. Mila’s head turns from side to side, and her hands fist the bedsheets. I fuck her faster, each time grounding my cock into her pussy.
Mila lets out sharp screams every time my cock is balls-deep into her pussy. Each time I hit her clit, I can tell she is about to come again. Nothing makes me feel greater than making my woman come over and over again.
She’s not your woman.
I ignore the voice in my head. As long as I’m fucking her exclusively, she’s my woman. And right, now she’s saying my name over and over again.
“Milk me with your pussy, babe,” I say.
She is coming apart. “Harder.”
My breath comes faster as I pump faster. I’ve never seen Mila so wild and lost in our fucking, and when she comes, I know it’s going to be big. I’m exercising control, keeping my orgasm from building up. I need to satisfy my woman first before I give in to my own pleasure.
Then Mila’s muscles begin to clench and unclench uncontrollably. “Don’t stop!” she cries.
“I won’t, babe,” I say.
“Oh God, oh God,” she cries.
I ram hard into her pussy, and she unravels. She presses back hard, and I spiral into an orgasm that draws every drop of seed out of my body. When it’s over, I lie on my back and pull her close. She rests her head on my chest. It feels so good to lie with our bare skin touching.
“That was perfect,” Mila whispers.
“Every time we make love, its perfect,” I say.
There’s silence following my words. I don’t mean anything by it. Nothing has changed between us. But I can’t very well say every time we fuck it’s perfect.
I stroke her hair, and she caresses my chest.
“I love how ripped you are,” she says softly.
“I like going to the gym,” I say. “Most of the guys at work do. It’s like a bonding thing.”
“I wouldn’t mind being a fly on the wall,” Mila says.
My blood goes cold. Her words are a stark reminder that we are fuck buddies. I almost laugh at myself when I remember the sentimental thoughts I had earlier. Mila is a free agent, and if she meets a man she wants to date, she’s free to do so.
Still, the thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I don’t want to imagine Mila with someone else.
