“You shouldn’t have ruined another pair of panties, baby,” I tell her.
“What do you mean?”
I grin down at her lust-filled face, her flushed cheeks and glossy eyes, and tear at the lace panties. Her little gasp makes my cock pulse with desperation to be inside her vice-like walls but I need to have her on my tongue first. No matter how much time passes, our love and lust grows with each day. I can’t get enough of her and I never will.
Colleagues and friends talk about the spark waning, or some little tramp they have on the side because the wife won’t put out, but I can’t relate, thank fuck. My little spitfire can’t get enough of my cock, tongue, and fingers. She looks at me like I’m the only man in the world for her and I look back at her with the same intensity.
“Don’t just look at it, Blake,” she whines, impatient, making me grip her hips in a punishing hold. My baby likes me to be firm with her; she desires it more than anything else.
“I like looking at it, baby. It’s so pink and pretty,” I tease, leaning closer so my hot breath can torment her wet folds. Her little mews break my resolve.
“What do you want me to do, baby? Tell me.”
“Kiss me there,” she begs.
Fuck, I’m a weak man when it comes to this woman. My breathing is loud and uneven and just looking and smelling her is going to make me come in my pants. Snaking my tongue out to swipe at her pussy, her scent bursts onto my taste buds, igniting my craving to have her come all over my mouth.
As I kiss, lick and suck her pussy, she screams and writhes on the table. Gripping her thighs tighter in my palms I bury my face further into her, slipping my tongue into her core to taste her sweet come.
“I need more,” she pleads.
How I fucking love it when she begs.
“What do you need?”
“Fingers, Blake. Fuck me with your fingers.”
Grinning like a fool I part her folds with my thumb and index finger so her throbbing swollen bud is vulnerable to my lips and in sync with my fingers. I close my mouth over her clit and thrust two fingers into her core.
I suck and stroke her inside and out, and her moans become strangled as her orgasm rips through her body making her whole frame jolt and tremble. I ride out her pleasure until she’s a weak, limp heap panting in front of me.
“I need to fuck you hard now, baby.”
“Is there any other way?”
Smacking her thigh and gripping her hips, I pull her towards me, turning her at the last minute so her stomach lays flat against the surface of the table, her feet tip toeing on the floor and her ass prone and waiting.
“Not with us there isn’t.”
I push my boxers down and release my hard cock, gripping her hair in a tight fist, tugging as I thrust my full length inside her inviting pussy. Her hot walls grip my cock like a fist, squeezing me for my release. I thrust hard inside her, crying out from the pleasure tearing through my body, the slapping sounds of our bodies joining together in our frenzied love making encouraging me to go harder, faster. Our moans in unison echo through the room. I feel her swelling and choking my cock; the heat spreads through my body, traveling up my spine, as she demands my release. My hot come pumps into her with every drive forward.
I slow my pace and ride out my release, guiding her to stand so I can kiss her skin. Our sweat-soaked bodies mold against each other as we gain our breathing and sanity back.
“I love you,” I groan into her ear.
“I love you more.”
She reaches her arm behind me to pinch my bare ass. It’s impossible for her to love me more but I don’t argue. Instead I palm her tits and caress them, rolling the nipples. Movement in my peripheral view alerts me of Cereus and her company before her words do.
“Of all the rooms in this house, you have to fuck in the kitchen?”
“Language,” her mother and I both reprimand at the same time, whilst gathering our clothes into place.
“You’re worried about my language after what I’ve just witnessed? You do realize I eat at that table?”
“So does your Dad, apparently.” Her best friend giggles from behind her. Of course she wouldn’t be alone.
Shit, she’s right; we shouldn’t be doing this stuff in the kitchen when we have a teenager coming and going as she pleases.
“If we knew when you’d decide to grace us with your presence we could be more careful,” Melody snaps, making Cereus huff a “whatever” back at her. They’re going through a weird phase at the moment. Cereus argues with whatever Melody says and has no respect for her mother’s authority. My sisters assure me it’s a phase all girls go through with their mothers and it will pass in time, but I hate it. They’re my world and it makes me uneasy for them to be at each other’s throats all the time, and for me to be in the middle of every fight they have.