Page 25 of Personal Foul
Crouching down, I roughly run my fingers up the outside of her thighs, bringing the material of her dress with me until it’s gathered around her waist.
Pulling my head back enough to see her, I make out the red panties she’s wearing as I let out a string of curse words under my breath.
“My God, you’re gonna kill me.”
She laughs, pushing playfully on my chest.
I reach for her arm. “Hold your dress up for me,” I whisper. The humor falls from her face as she nods her head.
“Good girl.”
Her eyes flutter, adjusting her legs to give me room, knowing exactly what I want.
My fingers trace along the edge of her panties, slipping a finger under the material, brushing over her tight bud.
Her legs tremble, her eyes peering down to watch me touch her. She reaches out for me, holding onto my forearm, helping steady her.
“You’re fuckin’ dripping,” I murmur.
Her chest heaves, forcing in a heavy breath from my words. My finger circles her clit, just enough to give her what she craves, before sliding lower and dipping into her pussy.
“Rush,” she pants. Something about hearing her call me by my last name turns me on more. Like she’s both urging me to hurry while referring to me by my nickname.
Kneeling in front of her, I press a soft kiss against her trimmed mound and run my hand up her calf, skating along her inner thigh.
Her fingers grip my hair, positioning me where she wants me right in front of her pussy. Tilting my head back, I glance at her and watch her tell me without words what she wants.
She’s on the brink, and I’ve only barely touched her.
“Please,” she begs.
With a subtle nod, I pull her panties to the side and take one swipe of my tongue across her swollen bud.
Fuck.She tastes so fucking good. The combination of the desire on her face, her pussy tightening around my finger, and the taste of her sweetness has me nearly coming in my pants.
A phone rings, and for a second, I wonder if she’s even heard it, or if she’s choosing to ignore it. When the second ring filters through the room, she mumbles, “What is that?”
“Oh my God, the phone.”
She quickly shoves her dress down and races over to her desk, nearly tripping over her own feet, but she recovers quickly.
“He-hello,” she exhales harshly, falling into her chair, she squeezes her eyes shut and presses her palm against her face.
She sighs heavily and says, “Hi, Mom.” She’s clearly thankful the person on the other end of the phone is her mother.
She finally opens her eyes, staring back at me. She holds a finger up to me, assuring me it’ll be quick, while her eyes leisurely roam over my body.
I don’t take my eyes off her. Sydney wears her emotions clear as day on her face. It’s like opening a book, and I’m reading it word for word. Even when she tries to be closed off and hide how she’s feeling, I’m able to pull it out of her. I think this bothers her; she can’t close me out like she has everyone else.
Despite telling herself and me it’s not a good idea for us to explore this between us, I know better than to think that’s what she truly wants.
Her eyes stop where my cock is clearly straining against the front of my athletic shorts. They don’t exactly disguise my attraction to her or how badly I wish I was buried in her tight pussy.
Running my hand over the front of my shorts causes her mouth to drop open when she watches me pump my dick through the thin material.
Her jaw clenches, her eyes flashing back to mine, silently begging me not to do that right now. I wave my finger in the air, signaling for her to wrap up the call.
I’m playing unfairly, and we both know it.
