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His palms wrap around my ribcage, and his deft fingers move to the ring just below the center of my breasts. Looking down, my eyes follow the movement, my breath hitching and breasts rising and falling under the dark brown suit panels loosely hanging from them.

Mind jumbled from the turn of events and body vibrating from his touch, I struggle to come up with my next question.

Bae takes his two middle fingers and slips them inside the small metal loop, curling them against my sternum. He moves his fingers in and out slowly, teasing me, giving me a visual of just what he can do several inches lower on my body.

“You are making this awfully hard,” I gasp out.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he whispers against the top of my spine, his forehead coming to a rest at the back of my neck and hips grinding between my exposed ass cheeks.

Swallowing thickly, I manage to verbalize my next question, tentatively ready to experience what sort of reward I earn next. “Do you pick up your assignments from someone locally?” Really the direction I need in this case will require two questions, but I have enough sense not to ask them at the same time or else risk getting only one reward instead of two — hopeful — rewards.

His fingers drag out of the tight ring and slip beneath the breast panel instead, both warm hands coming up to cup my breasts beneath the material.

“Right before you got to the saloon, right? No stops along the way?” I beg, breathlessly.

Bae pulls his fingers into a pinch, taking each of my nipples and giving them a slight roll. My head falls back against his shoulder, my body going weak.

“So the assignment had to have been swapped sometime between when you showed up and when you and Vee left,” I rush out on a shaky exhale.

His hands leave my breasts, and just when I think I somehow made a mistake in the timeline, missing some sort of imperative detail, his hands roam lower, one moving to cup my pussy while the other goes back between our bodies to unfasten the zipper of his jeans.

Oh, my stars, such a small noise never sounded so good. Just like the dogs in that old experiment when hearing the ding of the dinner bell, my mouth waters and my pussy throbs.

“Bae,” I pant as he digs his fingers against my entrance through my thong, using the material as a barricade to tease me even more. “I am running out of questions.” The statement comes as a desperate plea.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he breathes out, removing his hand from my pussy and yanking down my thong. The scrape of metal against pavement reaches my ears as he slings around the folding chair and places it in front of me.

My entire body knows exactly what to do for him. I bend forward, grip the cold metal for support, and hinge my hips back.

His thick cock meets my needy entrance, and he wedges the tip inside me, the circle of his fingers meeting my ass as he grips his girth to lengthen and tauten himself for us. Bae is wider than the other men. Wider than most men. And he is the only one who has ever stretched me open so much, always sending fissures of a fiery sting through my nervous system.

“Oh, fuck yes,” I moan as he stretches me inch by inch.

“You like that, hm? The way my cock stretches that tight cunt? So juicy for me. So fucking pliable. Sing to me. Sing to me like you do for Coty. Tell me all your secrets.”

The entire length of him fills me, bottoming out, and he circles his hips nice and slow, his hand wrapping around to press low against my pelvis.

A guttural groan, typically the type I love to hear coming from my men, comes from me instead due to the intense effort it takes not to let the entire rally know Bae is railing me inside the changing room tent. Eyes wrenching shut and teeth nearly drawing blood on my bottom lip from trying to repress a scream, I combust so hard and fast that my shoulders curve forward and head lolls, the hair at my neck now adhering to my damp skin.

“Oh, we are not done. You’re going to come again for me while telling me a story. You have more to say — your mouth and that pussy.” Bae turns me around, plops me down onto the chair, falls to his knees on the pavement, and positions each of my long legs over his muscular shoulders.

His nose meets my clit, and as he inhales deeply, his tongue flattens and depresses on my soaked, stretched pussy, dipping and looping inside me to scoop up a taste of what he created.

Hands slapping to the upper back portion of my ass to shove my pussy harder against his mouth, he groans against me as though I taste better and provide more sustenance than his lunch did earlier.

Words. Words. Say words, Lace. “Th-the Rolling Stones — Oh, god — ghosting seems really strange to me.”

Bae pauses, but only to drag a mixed line of his saliva and my cream out and away, his narrowed eyes watching as our liquids mix together and form a nice, stringy line before he brings his two middle fingers up, centers them, and scoops inside me. “God, I have fucking missed this perfect pussy.” He groans hot and low as he flicks his tongue against my clit and thrusts inside me.

“Oh, Bae.” Holy fuck, I forgot how much fun he is. “U-usually they h-h-h — Oh my stars.”

He chuckles and hums. “Oh, yeah. So fucking receptive.”

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. “They usually have a hell of a lot more presence during the rallies. Do you think Stoney is up to something big? Could he have somehow had a hand in this?” I have never spoken or come so fast in my life. The last word comes out with a groan and a grunty squeal.

Bae moves fast, wrenching his hand from my pussy to wet his dick inside me instead. He shoves his used fingers into my mouth to muffle my cries as I clench and judder around his cock for the second time.

Bae stays ripe, though. Not only is he the thickest of these men, he also lasts the longest. Bae only gets done when he wants to. No sooner, no later.

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