‘Don’t,’ she says, soft, with her hand up over the base of his throat, fingers over a tendon. She’s straddling his lap and her legs are split as wide as they’ll go, grinding down as close and hard as she can onto his lap. His wrists are tied loose behind him and he’s just in his boxer-briefs, teal blue today, and through her panties she can feel the wet slide of his dick inside his shorts. She grinds against him again, up-down, and he makes a noise, jerks. She clamps her calves around his thighs and tightens her fingers.

‘Don’t,’ again, ‘don’t move.’ Her other hand gets a grip in the hair at the back of his head and his chin tips up, instinctive, willing. She keeps her hand at his throat and lets the other drag down the back of his neck, over his shoulder, over his collarbone. She splays it out over one pec and pauses for a second.

She can smell him now, ripe and hot for it, and his dick is throbbing hard between her legs. She leans in, ever so slightly, and he meets her mouth and kisses her, wide open and quick, bottom lip caught and dragging against her teeth.

‘Hnnrgh,’ she says, on the exhale, and moves back just a couple of inches. His neck tightens under her hand and his mouth stays open a little, breath mixing with hers, jaw still tipped up. She presses her fingertips into his chest and thumbs his nipple, slow at first, pressing it flat against his skin and dragging deliberate over it. He grunts, jerks against her. Softer then, quick and regular, flick flick flick, and his breathing is quickening now and shallowing out. There’s a flutter in his throat and his cock is like steel, slick and quivering. She rolls her hips over him, biting her lip, and reaches down to ease him gently out of his shorts. Her panties are a mess now, wet and slippery over his thighs.

Both hands now on his nipples, twisting and pinching, measuring it to his groans. Her mouth is still close to his and she can feel the change in his breathing, the hitch in his shoulders. His hips are jerking a little, shuddering up against her.

‘I’m g- I’m gonna come,’ he says, hoarse, almost surprised, and does, curling against her body and spilling hot between them.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s