I love the fact that she doesn’t cover up or even try to. She just lets me look as she runs her hands down my chest. When she bends over and takes my pierced nipple into her mouth, tugging at the metal in a way that has my cock twitching, I bite back a growl.
“Why all the tattoos and piercings?” she asks, dropping my nipple ring from her mouth, but her legs tighten as she squirms in my lap.
I have a feeling I know which piercing is on her mind right now, and I can’t fight the smug grin on my face.
“It started as a phase. But tattoos are addictive, and I love getting something new every once and a while. The nipple piercing was on impulse, and it really did hurt like a bitch.”
She squirms on my lap once more, and I swallow a groan as her hand travels down to the top of my boxers—the only clothing I would put on. With her on my lap like this, I regret that decision. If my cock strains any harder to get at her uncovered, perfect—
“And this piercing?” she asks, sliding her hand down the front of my boxers and freeing my erect cock.
She teasingly runs a finger over the tip, and then she plays with the piercing, forcing a jolt of desire through me. You’d think I’d be too sated to keep fucking. This is the most I’ve ever had sex with one girl, let alone one day.
“Another impulse.”
“Did it hurt?” she asks, sliding her hand down the shaft of my dick and then back up.
I can’t hold back my groan this time. “Yes,” I say between harsh breaths.
“Does it hurt now?” she asks, keeping her ministrations slow and steady as she bends back down to kiss my neck some more.
“Very much,” I say, feeling her grin against my neck. “I’m pretty sure you could help with that, though.”
“Oh?” she asks sweetly, playing along.
I’m not sure what she’s doing to me. It’s like a fog has invaded my mind, and the only thing visible inside my head is her. It’s exciting me as much as it’s leaving me terrified.
I don’t speak as I try to make sense of all of this. Any minute she’s going to ask what we’re doing, and I’ll have to answer. I don’t have an answer. I don’t want this to end right now, but I want it to stop immediately. It’s so fucking confusing.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, noting my facial expression as she leans back.
I force a convincing smile and lie. “Counting condoms in my head. By my calculations, we have two left.”
Her grin returns, and she slides herself onto me without warning, taking me deep inside her, and moaning as I fill up every centimeter of her hot, wet heat. I’m not sure who gasps louder when our bases meet, and her head falls back as she rocks her hips, moaning again.
She’s squeezing me to damn death with her tight grip on my painfully hard cock. I’ve never been inside a girl without a condom, and right now, I’m not sure that I ever want to wear that thin layer of latex again.
“I wanted to feel it,” she says in a shallow breath, rocking again and crying out.
I can’t breathe, think, speak, or even move. I didn’t know such a small barrier was interrupting such... Fuck, this feels good.
“Feel what?” I ask in a rasp, hoarse whisper that betrays my every fear.
“It. The piercing. It’s... It feels so—Ah!” she cries out, gyrating her hips once again as she starts a steady rhythm.
I lift her hips and slam her down onto me, and we both make some hellacious sounds that mingle and form an animalistic melody. I do it again, and again, and again, until she suddenly rips away, robbing me of her heat, her tight sheathe, and the best feeling I’ve ever had in my life.
“We need a condom,” she says through a shaky breath, and I almost roar in frustration.
She’s right. Fuck, I know she’s right, but now I feel spoiled and I want more.
“Yeah,” I say tightly, wishing she hadn’t just given me nirvana and stolen it right back. “Are you on birth control?”
I have no idea why I’m asking. It’s still stupid, but as I stand, she nods, swallowing hard as she stares at my cock that is still glistening from her.
Pushing my boxers to the ground, I pick her up and set her on the table, angling myself against her entrance as her eyes widen.
“I’m clean,” I tell her, gauging her expression and waiting for her to stop me.
She’s not stopping me or asking questions. I’d tell her if there was anything she should worry about, and I believe she’d tell me. But her eyes just stare expectantly, and I stop thinking.
I push back into her, and her eyes roll back in her head until she cries out again. This is so fucking stupid, but no thought makes sense when I’m with her. I’m not me. I’m some idiot who thinks it is okay to do this thing I can’t define. I’m some moron who is picturing things that contradict the reality I have. I know what happens when fuck-ups like me find girls like her.