“Ainsley, if you don’t want to watch what your brother’s are watching then read a book. It’s a lovely morning. Go read on the back porch. Or better yet, get ready for swim team. We’re leaving in forty-five minutes.”
“But Mommy, when is it my turn to choose the show?” she whines.
I decide to help, so I yell, “When you figure out how to compromise with them.”
She lets out a huff that’s loud enough that I hear it in our bedroom, and stomps across the living room. Then the French doors that lead from the living room to the back porch open and shut with a little too much force. Normally, I’d correct her for slamming doors, but my situation prevents me from getting up.
Charlie comes to the bedroom door and leans against the doorframe with a mug of coffee in her right hand. “What’s your big problem?” she asks, looking at the tented bed sheet that I’ve made with my hard cock. She shakes her head, and says, “You’re awful.”
I flash her my half-smile and say, “Up for some closet time?”
“I’ve got to get ready for work. Can’t you take care of it yourself?” She’s smirking as she says all of this. I can read her like a book. When she says serious stuff while her lips turn up it means that she wants me to beg for it, which I’m not too proud to do.
“Closet time will distract me from the big, bad media. It’s really your way of doing your part.” I sound so cocky, which is exactly the angle that I was going for. I add the last bit knowing what her reaction is going to be.
“Fine. You’ve got about five minutes of Ninja Turtles left. Let’s see what you can do with it, big boy,” she says as she sashays threw the bedroom and into the master bathroom, discarding her coffee mug on the sink vanity. I follow her into our sex closet. It’s actually her closet. She had a bench seat built in under the guise of needing a place to sit to put on panty hose and shoes. I know the truth. She wanted it because it makes a great place for her to brace her upper body so I can take her from behind.
I lock the closet door behind us, and watch her slip off her black cotton jogging-pants and remove her pink thong. She gives me a knowing wink before she turns around and assumes the position. I drop my athletic shorts like they’re on fire and walk up behind her, palming both of her tits working her nipples into hard points. While continuing to massage the left one, I check to see how ready she is.
My girl is slick, and I love it. She plays hard to get and she’s not affected by me, but then I feel how turned on she is. I lean over her back and whisper in her hair, “You’re sloppy for me. I fucking love you.”
She gasps as I continue to slide my fingers in and out of her, finding the right spot. Over and over I do this. It’s a fun game of torture we play. I’m not quite letting her have her orgasm, just keeping her on the brink.
Then I nibble, lick, and bite the spot on her shoulder—just above her collarbone—that makes her crazy.
“Take me. I’m going to come.” She pants as she tries to wiggle away from my nimble fingers.
I use my right hand to hold her in place, not letting her reach for my cock.
“Not yet,” I reply, checking my watch. “I still have three minutes.”
Dropping to my knees, I spread her legs wider apart, staring at her pink, swollen pussy. She’s still leaning on the bench, and seeing her in such a vulnerable position makes me even harder. I begin to sample her wetness with my tongue and smell her arousal. Dear God, I love everything about her. Her smell. Her taste. The moans of pleasure that escape her mouth. She is a fucking smorgasbord for my senses.
“Colin,” she groans. “I’m almost there.”
I chuckle to myself. I don’t know why she feels the need to tell me. I know. I feel her swell against my lips and tongue. I can taste her increased arousal. She begins to pulse like a heartbeat against my chin.
Standing up, I slip my cock inside of her as she clamps tightly against me and pulls me the rest of the way in. I feel the rush of fluid and know that she’s coming as I slide in and out of her keeping her orgasm going. She throws her head back, and hair falls over her back, and brushes the two dimples at the top of her behind.
My body feels like I’ve got electricity running through it as my orgasm spills out of me and into her soft folds. I’m a sweaty motherfucker and fall against her back, grabbing her around her small waist as if she’s my lifeline.
“Best five-minute sex ever.” I pant against her shoulder blade.
She turns around and sits on the bench and I drop to the ground, putting my head on her lap. She runs her long fingers through my damp, matted waves. “Did you sleep last night?” Charlie asks in a soft voice, tinged with concern.