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Neither of us move.
I drop to my knees and free his cock, and the minute it’s free, my tongue darts out and I lick the tip. He growls, and it’s like music to my ears as I take him in. He pushes into my mouth until I’m gagging. Tears begin to pool in my eyes, but the sound he’s making urges me on.
But then, he suddenly stops.
“Are you drunk?” he asks. I pull back and fall to my ass. Managing to stand, I draw back to look at him. I’m deciding whether I should tell him the truth or just pretend I haven’t drank anything, because I’m worried he may stop if I say I’ve been drinking.
“Maybe tipsy.” I shrug, going with the truth.
He nods and we stand there, my green eyes boring into him. “Have you been drinking?” I ask him.
“Sober as the fucking day I was born,” he forces out, obviously still trying to catch his breath. I love knowing the effect I have on him. I know he isn’t ready for this to end.
And I love it.
I offer him a slow smile as I reach for my leather skirt zipper. I shimmy it down my bare legs before I unhook my polka dot top and let it fall to the floor, all while he watches me. His eyes trace over every part of my body as I stand there—completely naked.
“Should we…” I wave a hand, and before I can even finish my sentence, he’s in front of me and reaching for me. He lifts me up, and I wrap both legs around his waist as he turns me around and positions me on the bench he was just lifting on. His body moves from mine, and he drops to his knees. Before I can even utter a sound or ask him what he is doing, his mouth is on me. My legs spread, and his hot mouth is on my clit. He wastes no time as he starts a slow and steady rhythm. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my hands reach for my breasts, and I grip them—hard. “Don’t you fucking stop,” I tell him, arching my back.
He doesn’t.
He keeps the same rhythm and slides a finger straight into me, then another. He works me over, his mouth only ever leaving for a second, and then he’s back to devouring me as if I’m his favorite meal.
What a funny thought.
I lost my virginity when I was seventeen. It was at a party I’d snuck out to. It wasn’t fun, actually. Sex and I haven’t been the best of friends. Men always seem to want to please themselves first. I thought maybe it would be different with my ex, but it was terrible, and I never want to have that type of sex again in my life.
“Whiskey.” I say his name as I come, and I fucking come hard. He moves, and before I can ask him where he’s going, he growls.
“Do not fucking move an inch.”
I don’t even get a chance to nod at his command before he leaves. I try to catch my breath as I hear his footsteps, and before I know it, he’s back. I look at him to see him with no pants on and rolling a condom on his very hard cock, the very same one that was in my hand––and mouth––just moments ago. He comes to stand in front of me—hovers over me to be exact—and looks down.
“Were you a good girl?” he asks.
I nod my head and smile up at him as he reaches for my legs and lifts them to wrap around his waist while my back stays on the bench. I can feel him at my entrance.
“Tell me, does this pussy want my cock?”
I nod again, he’s at my entrance now. Just about to slide in. And I try to pull him, just a little closer in with my legs where they are around him, but he has a hold of my hips and grips them hard.
“Be a good bunny and stay fucking still.”
I bite my lip before he slides in, ever so slowly and fucking tortuous.
The feel of him filling me completely will be hard to compete with for any other man after this.
The feeling of how hot—how sexy—I feel right now as he stares down at me with so much need…that will be hard to replicate.
“Whiskey,” I say his name as he slides in and out slower, only giving me the smallest grunt as he does so.
“Shut, up. Bunny. I want to listen to your sweet pussy as she milks me.” He starts to move faster and harder. Fuck. Oh, my god. How am I meant to survive this.
He hasn’t even finished fucking me yet, and I know I’m ruined for any other man. How am I meant to go on knowing sex can feel this good?
He fucks me so hard I have to reach for something.
“Hold on,” he says as I look up and find the bars, gripping them on either side of my head for dear life. His fingers dig into my hips, and his body tenses with each push. I’m so lost in watching him, as the sweat beads down his chest and the look of pure lust that coats his eyes, I almost forget where we are.
