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“You’re bad for my time management,” she accused, letting her hair fall against her back. “This is going to take way longer than ten minutes and I’m not going to have time to properly put on my makeup now.”
“It’s the first day of class, though… who are you trying to impress?” he teased.
“My professor, for one…” she answered, her eyes closing when he repeated the movement, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her ass. She ground down so slightly, it could have been involuntary.
“I can just go over the process and we can pick this up later?” he offered, grinning because he knew she wouldn’t go for that at all.
“You’re going to rile me up and send me to class?” she asked, her blue eyes wide with mock innocence. “Not sure that’s the best idea, but…”
He brought his fingers up to tickle her sides and she collapsed against him, giggling and giving him access to more of her ticklish spots. When she writhed against him, it made his cock get impossibly hard, so she really presented no valid reasons for him to stop.
She seemed to notice the pressure the longer he teased her, taking that bottom lip of hers between her teeth to hide a wicked grin at the knowledge. Now when she moved, it had a purpose, grinding her sex over his. He could feel her slipping against him. Getting wetter the longer she kept at it.
They’d been toying with the idea of having her on top the entire weekend, but something kept coming up. Usually his desire to blow her mind and leave her trembling. It was a heady experience, being the cause of pure unadulterated pleasure. One he enjoyed too much to switch things up just yet.
But, she was on her way out to class, so it seemed like the perfect time to give her riding lessons, yes?
“You want me to show you how?” he asked, the question sounding more desperate than he’d first intended, but it matched his sentiment. He was desperate for her. No matter how much he’d had her this weekend. She was leaving and he wanted her more if that was possible.
They had to go back to the real world, one where you didn’t get to eat pizza naked in bed and have athletic, crazy hot sex until you were too tired to move. And lazy sex first thing in the morning. Or get a blow job in the shower.
He wasn’t ready to give this up just yet. He didn’t want to pop the bubble. And going about their regular lives definitely would.
“Yes, show me,” she whispered, straightening her back and squaring her shoulders. Which put her lovely breasts on display once more, but he had to focus. He could play with those in a moment. He reached over for the top drawer of her side table, realizing with a grin that they’d almost blown through the entire box of condoms she’d had in there.
He pulled one out, tearing it open and rolling it down his cock as quickly as he was able to.
“Rise up,” he murmured, tapping her thigh until she did. He took himself in hand and dragged the rigid tip through her arousal. “You feel that?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered, a soft moan breaking the silence whenever he brushed over her clit.
“How about that?” he slotted his cock in her opening and heard her resulting gasp. She nodded.
“Yes.”
He let go and brought his hand back to her hip. “Now sink down… until you can’t anymore.”
It was exquisite torture, given how slowly she impaled herself on him.
Once she’d seated herself against his hips, he let out the breath he was holding. “Now just squeeze your thighs… and release, just keep doing that… fuckyes, Teagan…”
She grinned, her eyes fluttering closed while she moved, slow at first. Achingly slowly. But she soon sped up.
“Oh, fuck, hurts my thighs…” she murmured.
“You want to trade?” he asked, his eyes glued down to where they were joined so he could watch her pussy as his cock disappeared into it.
“No, no… it’s just a whole new set of muscles… feels too good to stop.”
She found a rhythm that made his words come out all spluttery and random. He gasped whatever he could. “Fuck. Teagan. God.Fuck…”
She reached for his hands, lacing their fingers, and using him for leverage. He supported her weight gladly as she leaned forward and changed the angle.
“God, Jaxon…” Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed as she rode him.
He braced her weight while she moved, sort of at a loss because he thought he’d have to do more, but she’d really just sort of taken over.
Her hair was wet and falling into his face when she bent over him, the cold tendrils brushing over his forehead and flooding his nose with her scent. The floral, soapy scent of her shampoo, and the much headier scent of their sex.
