Walk Of Shame(15)
He’s standing there soaked, looking at me through long, wet lashes. He has the most amazing blue eyes I have ever seen. I want to pull my gaze away, but I can’t. I’m hypnotized. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s so damn beautiful; dangerously beautiful. His black hair is wet and slicked back from the rain. It’s thick and slightly long. I love that. The focal point is those lips. Oh God, those lips. The rain is falling on them, beading, and dripping down. With each drop that falls, it causes him to keep using his tongue to dry them. It’s so damn distracting.
“Here. Use this.” I pull my eyes away from his lips and take hold of his shirt, holding it above my head. “It’s not a damn umbrella, but it will help.”
He turns away and walks out into the open, but stops to stand in the pouring rain. I watch as he runs his hands over his face, the rain pouring over his head and arms while soaking his jeans. His bare chest is moving up and down as if he’s trying to fight some deep emotions and with each move, his muscles flex, making me very aware of his sex appeal. It’s confusing. I don’t know if I want to hug him, slap him or fuck him. All I know is that I definitely want to be doing something to him.
After a few minutes of him just standing there, I walk away from the safety of the tree and hold his shirt above both of our heads. By now, it’s completely drenched and not serving much of a purpose, but I don’t take notice. Someone else has captured my attention. I’m standing on the tip of my toes, trying my best not to lose my balance and fall into him.
It takes him a moment, but he finally turns around. Looking me in the eyes, he reaches for his shirt and throws it down beside him. His eyes are intense; dark. “I need to finish what I started,” he growls. He takes a step forward and I take a step back, but his stride is wider than mine. He leans in close to my ear and whispers, “I’ve been craving your pussy all fuckin’ day. That sweet smell from earlier has my mouth watering for another taste.”
He doesn’t even hesitate before grabbing me by the hips and picking me up. It’s as if he already knew I was going to let him do what he wants to me. It angers me, but I have to admit it has me so turned on I don’t think I could say no if I tried.
I want to say something; protest or scream no, but I don’t. I should, but I won’t. I’m too wrapped up in what he’s about to do to me. I’m not thinking clearly. My thighs are moistening with every look at his beautiful body and every filthy word that exits his mouth.
He walks toward his black motorcycle with me wrapped around his waist. Just thinking about the way he made me feel this morning without even touching me has me so turned on that I can already feel the ache between my legs just waiting to be released; pulsating to be filled by his dick. It’s new to me. It’s what he does to me.
Setting me down beside his motorcycle, he places one hand on my waist while working the button on my wet shorts with the other. I try to look at his face to see what he’s feeling at the moment, but its void of any emotions. He’s hard to read and it gives me an adrenaline rush; a need to figure him out.
His hands are working fast to pull my shorts down my legs and lift my feet out of them. Even with them being wet, he is a pro at stripping me out of them. He’s good at getting what he wants and it makes me wonder if he’s just as good when he gets it.
Standing here almost naked, I feel myself panting as he balls my thong in his hand and yanks. The thin strings rip apart, baring my throbbing pussy to him. My first thought is to cover myself up, but he lifts me up and sets me down so I’m straddling the back of his motorcycle.
I feel my legs spread wider as he runs his hands up my thighs and licks the rain from his full lips. Sitting here right now makes me feel dirty, but a part of me really needs this right now. Maybe letting him pleasure me will be enough to take my mind off things for the moment; not worry about what a certain someone is doing.
“Oh, fuck.” He grips my thighs and bites his bottom lip. “The taste of your sweet pussy has been on my tongue all day; teasing me and making my fucking cock hurt. You better hold on tight while I devour your pussy; taste you in ways you’ve never been tasted.”
Gripping my thighs, he pulls me closer to the edge of the motorcycle and runs his tongue up my thigh while grazing my flesh with his teeth. I can already feel myself squirming on the wet bike, trying not to slip off. My heart is going wild in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
Oh. My. Goodness.
“You like that, don’t you,” he asks against my thigh. “I bet you’re already imagining what it’s going to feel like when I run my tongue up your wet little pussy.” He bites into my thigh and pulls me closer so my legs are over his shoulders. It hurts, but feels so good at the same time. My breathing picks up as he nibbles a little harder. “You like it when it hurts, baby?” He pulls away and lets the rain fall against my swollen clit. It has me wishing his mouth was there instead, to ease my ache.