Page 108
Story: Mess With Me
There’s a sound outside. Was it the creak of the couch springs?
I widen my legs to allow more access. My pussy is bared right now. I’m fully exposed, and he’s only a few feet away. I pinch my nipple with my other hand as I dip my fingers inside my entrance. I moan again, a little louder than necessary. This time, I definitely hear the couch.
I pinch my nipple hard enough for pain to pluck through me, and I gasp, rolling my hips on the bed as I run my fingers over my clit.
“Yes,” I breathe to myself as I move my hand faster, tugging at my nipple as I stroke my clit with increasing speed. “Fuck.”
I forget myself then, arching my back as I run circles round my clit with my fingers, grasping my breast fully, kneading the nipple between my fingers. “Oh God,” I moan. Some part of me is aware I’m making enough noise that if the sound of the couch moving before was a coincidence, it isn’t now.
Neither is the sound of Griffin’s feet padding across the floor or the soft creak of the door as it swings open.
Griffin’s standing in the doorway, his chest heaving. He’s still in his towel, but I can see it’s hanging on for dear life with the size of his erection. He grips the sides of the doorframe with both hands.
“Sasha,” he says, his voice a low rasp. His eyes are on my pussy, watching as I flick my clit. His eyes on me amps my arousal up by a factor of approximately a million.
“What?” I ask, sliding my other hand down. I dip my fingers inside myself, arching my back once more, only this time it’s for him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I plunge my fingers inside myself, groaning at the sensation and at the thrill of him watching.
“I’m having sex with me,” I say, pulling them back out again. “Because someone else didn’t want to.”
I sit up, my knees spread. I feel lewd. And hot. And dirty.
I love it.
I get onto my hands and knees. “You going to do something about it?” I reach between my legs. “Oh God,” I cry out as my fingers hit my swollen clit.
“Jesus, Sasha.” He strokes his length through the towel.
I moan again, and this time I see something snap. He comes over to the side of the bed and grasps a handful of my hair, tugging my head back. Then he reaches down with his other hand and wraps his fingers around my wrist, bringing the hand I was using to pleasure myself to his face. He opens his mouth, and my fingers disappear between his lips.
He makes a low, carnal, animalistic sound as he swirls his tongue around each finger. I know my taste turns him on—even with my head tilted back, I see how his cock surges.
He drops my hand, and I use it to keep my body balanced. The towel’s fully tented over his hardness, only inches from my face.
“I know you want to fuck me,” I say. “So why don’t you just do it?”
“Sasha,” he growls. “You’re going to stop talking.”
“How do you know that?” I gasp, licking my lips.
“Because my cock’s about to be stuffed so far down your throat you won’t be able to do anything but gag for me.”
Before I can say anything, he makes good on his promise. He drops the towel, and, fisting his beautiful length, he presses my jaw down with his fat head and slides into my mouth. He doesn’t stop, either. He slides all the way in.
I take my opportunity to grab on to his ass, greedily pulling him toward me.
“Fuck,” he groans as I angle myself to take as much of him as I possibly can. He’s hot and hard and he fills my mouth completely.
I moan around his cock, my whole body on fire at the feeling of him owning me like this. I watch as he unravels before my eyes, this rigid, demanding man falling apart for me until all that’s left is his raw, molten core.
He thought he could be around me without feelings? If he’s feeling half of what I am now, the thought is laughable. Because right now, everything about me is all about him.
The way his hard touch softens as he sinks to his hilt inside me, then tightens again as he slides out. He does it over and over again, my mouth slippery over his head, my tongue toying with him as best I can before he plunges in once more.
Finally, with a grunt, he pulls out. “No.”
I widen my legs to allow more access. My pussy is bared right now. I’m fully exposed, and he’s only a few feet away. I pinch my nipple with my other hand as I dip my fingers inside my entrance. I moan again, a little louder than necessary. This time, I definitely hear the couch.
I pinch my nipple hard enough for pain to pluck through me, and I gasp, rolling my hips on the bed as I run my fingers over my clit.
“Yes,” I breathe to myself as I move my hand faster, tugging at my nipple as I stroke my clit with increasing speed. “Fuck.”
I forget myself then, arching my back as I run circles round my clit with my fingers, grasping my breast fully, kneading the nipple between my fingers. “Oh God,” I moan. Some part of me is aware I’m making enough noise that if the sound of the couch moving before was a coincidence, it isn’t now.
Neither is the sound of Griffin’s feet padding across the floor or the soft creak of the door as it swings open.
Griffin’s standing in the doorway, his chest heaving. He’s still in his towel, but I can see it’s hanging on for dear life with the size of his erection. He grips the sides of the doorframe with both hands.
“Sasha,” he says, his voice a low rasp. His eyes are on my pussy, watching as I flick my clit. His eyes on me amps my arousal up by a factor of approximately a million.
“What?” I ask, sliding my other hand down. I dip my fingers inside myself, arching my back once more, only this time it’s for him.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I plunge my fingers inside myself, groaning at the sensation and at the thrill of him watching.
“I’m having sex with me,” I say, pulling them back out again. “Because someone else didn’t want to.”
I sit up, my knees spread. I feel lewd. And hot. And dirty.
I love it.
I get onto my hands and knees. “You going to do something about it?” I reach between my legs. “Oh God,” I cry out as my fingers hit my swollen clit.
“Jesus, Sasha.” He strokes his length through the towel.
I moan again, and this time I see something snap. He comes over to the side of the bed and grasps a handful of my hair, tugging my head back. Then he reaches down with his other hand and wraps his fingers around my wrist, bringing the hand I was using to pleasure myself to his face. He opens his mouth, and my fingers disappear between his lips.
He makes a low, carnal, animalistic sound as he swirls his tongue around each finger. I know my taste turns him on—even with my head tilted back, I see how his cock surges.
He drops my hand, and I use it to keep my body balanced. The towel’s fully tented over his hardness, only inches from my face.
“I know you want to fuck me,” I say. “So why don’t you just do it?”
“Sasha,” he growls. “You’re going to stop talking.”
“How do you know that?” I gasp, licking my lips.
“Because my cock’s about to be stuffed so far down your throat you won’t be able to do anything but gag for me.”
Before I can say anything, he makes good on his promise. He drops the towel, and, fisting his beautiful length, he presses my jaw down with his fat head and slides into my mouth. He doesn’t stop, either. He slides all the way in.
I take my opportunity to grab on to his ass, greedily pulling him toward me.
“Fuck,” he groans as I angle myself to take as much of him as I possibly can. He’s hot and hard and he fills my mouth completely.
I moan around his cock, my whole body on fire at the feeling of him owning me like this. I watch as he unravels before my eyes, this rigid, demanding man falling apart for me until all that’s left is his raw, molten core.
He thought he could be around me without feelings? If he’s feeling half of what I am now, the thought is laughable. Because right now, everything about me is all about him.
The way his hard touch softens as he sinks to his hilt inside me, then tightens again as he slides out. He does it over and over again, my mouth slippery over his head, my tongue toying with him as best I can before he plunges in once more.
Finally, with a grunt, he pulls out. “No.”
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