Page 22 of Continuum

He let out a shaky breath before lifting my arm in the air. Before I could move it back to his dick, the hand he had around my shoulders grabbed my wrist.

“No,” he grunted before covering my mouth with his. His free hand returned to my knee and I started to squirm.

He already had one of my arms pinned between his body and the couch. He positioned my other arm behind my head, still maintaining his tight grip on my wrist. I was so caught up in the kiss, I didn’t realize I was completely restrained until he pulled away.

With his lips against the shell of my ear, he uttered, “You said you don’t have sex on the first date.” His fingers crawled up my thigh, pushing the hemline up. “No exceptions.”

I opened my legs wider. “I’m making an exception.”

“And why would you do that?” he asked quietly. He pressed his forehead against mine and continued his journey up my thick thigh.

I didn’t answer. And I didn’t realize I was holding my breath in anticipation until I felt the heat of his hand hover over the freshly waxed skin. I tried to lift my hips to force contact, but he stayed out of reach.

His intense gaze burned into me as he waited for me to respond. “Why?”

“Because I want to.”

He brushed his fingertips against me, building the tension in my clit. “You want to make me the exception?”

“Yes.”

“You want me to take care of this pussy?”

His fingers rested right above where I needed them to be.

“Yes,” I whimpered. “Please.”

“Tell me.”

My heart was thumping against my chest. “Take care of my pussy…”

He got closer to where I was begging to be touched. “You want me to make you cum?”

“Yes. Make me cum.”

“Shit,” he swore, crashing his mouth into mine.

As soon as our tongues collided, he slid his fingers through the wet flesh and lightly grazed my waiting clit. Instinctively, I moaned and arched my back. His fingers slipped into my wetness and then returned to my clit, circling it methodically. The teasing and pent-up sexual frustration was going to send me over the edge sooner rather than later.

My breathing became more ragged, and I couldn't help but move my hips in response to his touch.

“You like that, don’t you?” Kwame asked against my lips. “You like me playing with your pussy.”

“Yes,” I panted, my hips twitching.

“Yeah, you do. That’s why your pussy is so wet,” he continued, dipping his fingers back inside me before spreading my wetness over my clit again. “That’s why your pussy is so wet for me, Aisha.”

My mouth fell open. I was throbbing. Rocking against his hand as he masterfully stroked me, I was two seconds away from exploding.

He kissed me hard as I felt my entire body start to tingle. His tongue played with mine as his fingers slid across my clit with more intensity.

My hips started to lift off the couch and I whimpered into his mouth.

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned, pulling away to watch me. “Yeah, cum for me. Listen to how wet you are. I got your pussy dripping wet. Is this my pussy? It feels like it’s my pussy—oh yeah, it’s definitely mine. That’s a good girl.”

My eyes shut tight as I gave in to the sensation. I cried out as my orgasm rippled through my body.

“That’s a good girl,” he panted as he continued stroking me. “That’s a good fucking girl. That’s it… That’s it…”

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