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“I haven’t decided,” I admit.
She smiles. “Me either.”
Then Laura kisses me, and it’s like the entire day has been leading to this moment. I explode in a thousand different ways, like fireworks have gone off in my belly. She’s beautiful, she’s gorgeous, she tastes like cherries and coffee.
Laura’s mouth is familiar to me now. The shape of it, the press of it. I know how hard she kisses. I know that she likes to bite my bottom lip in a soft, gentle way, just to soothe it withher tongue. I know her fingers get nearly unbearably tight in my hair. I know that she presses against me, waist first, like she’s trying to push me into her without us moving our clothes out of the way.
I know all these things, but it doesn’t make it any easier, any less awe-inspiring and all-consuming.
I push the shirt off her shoulders and let my hands explore her smooth, cool skin. She’s cold to the touch, and I warm her with the palms of my hands. My fingers press firmly into her. I feel the give of her soft stomach, the twitch of her muscles, the sharp angles of her shoulder blades. Her breasts are moving heavily, like she is struggling to catch her breath, brushing against my chest. I hate the fabric between us, and with my hand around her back already exploring her skin, I unclip the clasp of the bra.
It falls between us, and I separate just enough to let it continue on to the ground. But this momentary reprise gives me a better look at her. Her lips are swollen now, her eyes wide and dark. Her breasts hang in beautiful ovals, her nipples pink and perky.
I reach between us and flick open her skirt’s button. I unzip it and watch it fall. She grabs my forearm to steady herself as she steps out.
Left only in her heels, thigh high panty hose, and white panties, Laura looks like something out of a wet dream. I’m so hard already that I think I could come just like this, just looking at her.
Her lips are pink, the skin around her mouth rubbed red. I can see the little red marks on her body from my hand that will fade in just a few minutes, but for now, prove I touched her.
“David,” she says, voice light and airy. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to fuck me?”
“Jesus Christ,” I let out. Her eyes dance as she unbuckles my belt. She slides it out and drops it to the floor.
Then, she goes to the floor herself. On her knees, she looks up at me.
“Fuck, Laura,” I manage. “You—you’re so?—”
“Yeah, baby. I am.” Laura pushes down my pants and boxers in one go and then parts her lips. She moves in a fluid descent, her pretty tongue out when she first covers the tip of my dick.
My hands fly automatically out. I grab her hair in a fist, watching the messy red strands slide between my fingers. She keeps moving down, down, down?—
My cock hits the back of her throat. She gags, and I pull back, but she grips me hard and mumbles something intelligible but delicious around my hard cock. Slowly, she begins to move up and down, her hands joining.
Half naked with her tits bouncing, Laura fucks my cock with her mouth. I stand as still as I can, struggling to breathe and not fuck her throat.
She’s so fucking beautiful, so fucking hot, that I feel like I could explode.
“Jesus, baby, you’re so good at that,” I praise her. “Your mouth feels so good. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?”
She moans. I feel the vibration in my bones.
I can’t stop talking now, can’t stop the running stream of compliments. “You know you’re good, don’t you, sweetheart? You love my cock. You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?”
I pull her head gently. My hand trembles with the effort to not yank, but I manage. When she pulls off my cock, it’s with an obsceneplopsound, and spit is drawn in a long string from her lips to my tip.
“Fuck me?” she asks hopefully, panting.
“Laura,” I groan, and I reach down fast and hard to squeeze myself at the base. I hold on tight for a few seconds until thefeeling of the impending orgasm fades and I’m no longer at risk of coming all over her pretty face.
Thethoughtnearly sends me back over the edge, imagining her pretty swollen lips dripping with something other than her own spit. I shake my head to try to get the thought out and offer her a hand.
When I help her up, my other hand presses against her pussy from outside her panties. She moans, and my desperate cock twitches.
“Sweetheart,” I tell her, my voice gone with want, low and full of gravel. My hands go down to her panties, gently pulling the material away from her. “I’m going to buy you a hundred of these.”
“A hundred of what—Oh.”
I’ve ripped the thin panties off of her. I throw them behind me, torn in two.
