Man of the House(93)

“Yes,” she gasped.

“You’ve been dreaming about how I’d fuck your perfect pussy.”

“Please,” she groaned.

My hands slowly roamed down toward the hem of her dress and slid up along her thighs. She let out a soft moan as I slowly found her pussy.

And as I predicted, it was soaking fucking wet.

“Exactly what I thought,” I said. “You’re soaked for me. How badly do you want this?”

“Vince,” she moaned as I found her pussy and began to softly stroke her. “We need to be careful.”

“There’s nothing careful about me, princess,” I said. “It’s all or nothing. I want this cunt and I want it now.”

I slipped my hand beneath her panties and found her soaked clit, pressing gently in slow circles.

“Oh shit,” she gasped. “That feels amazing.”

I rubbed her in soft, slow circles, her soaking pussy begging for it.

“I want so much more,” I whispered in her ear. “I want to make you feel so much more.”

“Vince,” she gasped as I slipped a finger deep inside her.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me to fuck you until you can’t stand.”

“I want you,” she said.

“Say you want me to fuck your pussy.”

I kept rubbing her clit, alternating between fucking her with my fingers and rolling her swollen spot. She was clutching on to my shoulders, her body tense. I could feel her losing herself in every motion of my fingers, every new word I whispered in her ear.

“Fuck my pussy, Vince,” she said, half a moan. “Fuck me. I need it.”

“That’s right,” I said to her. “I know you fucking do.”

I grabbed her hips and pushed her back toward the table. She stumbled, but I caught her, lifting her easily. I sat her down on the table top and she laughed as I kissed her neck.

“God I love this fucking body,” I said, kissing down her throat and along her breasts. “Fucking incredible.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I speak only the truth.” I pushed her back slightly, and she rested herself on her hands. I reached up her dress and found her panties and pulled them down. They slipped easily off her skin, and she lifted her hips up. I tossed them aside.

I pressed a finger deep inside her and she gasped. I grabbed her hair with my other hand and kissed her mouth, my tongue rolling along hers. I fucked her pussy with one hand and held her hair tight with the other, kissing her, working her body.

I pulled back slightly and grabbed one leg, propping it up on the table. She stared at me, mouth hanging open, her pussy dripping wet. I pulled the hem of her dress up slightly and grabbed her hips, pushing my mouth against her pussy.

I licked her clit softly and she moaned, one leg up on the table, resting back on her hands. “Oh my god,” she said.

I sucked and licked her clit like that, and she lay back all the way, holding on to the top of the table. I kept her one leg up as I sucked her and ate her pussy, my tongue rolling down to press inside her.

I used a finger to fuck her as I licked her clit again. I knew she fucking loved it by the way she moaned loudly, saying my name and gripping the table.

She reached down after a minute and grabbed my head, pulling my hair. I gasped from the slight pain and laughed, looking up at her.

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t make me come.”

“Don’t worry. You have to ask for permission first.”

“Vince,” she said as I pushed my fingers inside her, sliding them in and out. “Don’t tease me. Please.”

“Tease you?” I asked. “What do you want then?”

“I want you to fuck me. Please. Fuck me.”

I grinned at her and pressed my fingers all the way inside her. I leaned forward as she sat up, her mouth open, and kissed her.

I slowly moved my fingers out and reached up. I took the straps of her dress and pushed each one down. Her dress was yellow with little blue flowers and buttons all down the front. The straps came off easily, and I pushed the dress down, revealing her full, perfect tits.

I kissed her chest softly and she moaned. I kissed her lips and then stepped back.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” she moaned.

I unbuckled my belt as she sat forward. She reached out and undid my button and my fly, and I pulled my jeans off. I tossed my gun aside and then unbuttoned my shirt. She watched as I slipped it off, and she pressed her hands against my skin, tracing the black lines of ink along my chest.

“I love these,” she said.

“You like a hard man with tattoos?”

“I shouldn’t, but I do. I know what men like you want.”