Page 92 of Falcon

“I. Want. You.”

“Then take me.” I pull my hand from between her legs when she begins to work my belt and lower my fly.

I give a cursory glance around to make sure we are truly alone, even though I know we are, but I want to make sure for her sake.

She reaches into my jeans and pulls my cock free, giving the solid, hard appendage a firm tug and squeeze, then uses her thumb to smear a bead of precum over my tip.

“Fuck,” I groan out.

“That’s the idea.” She smiles then squeals when I hoist her up with my forearm braced under her ass.

“Move your panties to the side,” I tell her, and she does so quickly.

“Eyes on me. I want to watch your face when I fill you up.”

She blinks open just as I nudge my cock at her pussy and pull her slowly to sink onto me.

Her mouth forms an O and her head tilts back just a bit to expose the long line of her neck.

Her dress is just flowy enough that it hides everything happening underneath, but when she starts to grind down on me and give herself a little bounce, there is no mistaking what we are doing.

We fuck lazily, slowly, nose-to-nose with the ocean crashing on the shore below us.

We kiss, roll our hips, move, suck, nibble, and pant for what feels like forever, but also like no time at all.

Time isn’t real when I’m inside of her, when we are together. It’s only when her pussy begins to spasm in orgasm around me that I start to become aware of our surroundings once again. Because her cries of pleasure softly in my ear and the rhythmic sound of the waves and wind create a symphony I want to play over and over again.

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