Page 85 of The Worst Kind of Promise
She doesn’t say anything except for a few incoherent moans, nodding her head eagerly. I can’t help but love how submissive she’s being, how she trusts me enough to take her in any position I want with no snappy comeback in sight.
I yank down her gray shorts more forcefully than I intended, revealing the high-cut thong barely covering her wet clit. She’s soaked through the material just like I expected, canting her hips into the air, galvanized to reach that unsurpassable summit of her climax.
My mouth begins to water. I can alreadytasteher. “I love this sight of you sprawled out in front of me, showing me that pretty little cunt. You’re perfect, Faye. So perfect that it drives me up the damn walls,” I gasp.
Her eyes are pinched closed, breasts heaving. “Fingers. I want your fingers.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Within a second, her underwear is off, and my God…
Puffy, pink, neglected lips shimmer with viscous arousal. I’d fall to my knees if I weren’t already on them. My dick, standing at attention, makes it painfully obvious just how turned on I am, and my lower stomach contracts with the growing need to come. I sheath the first joint of my finger inside her, and a blissed-out expression overtakes her wound up features.
“Oh, God. That feels so good,” she breathes, her walls already clenching around my digit.
I begin to move my finger deeper, and her entire body comes off the back wall, legs clamping tighter around the bulk of my torso. So tight that she nearly knocks the air out of my sore lungs.
“Look at me while I finger you, Faye.” I add a second finger, starting to steadily pump within her warm heat, the squelch of skin and muscle and moisture amplified within the confines of the box.
Her eyes rip open to watch me, and I make sure to slide my fingers out far enough for her to see, then I plunge them back inside, flittering just outside of her G-spot. I’m drowning in her ambrosia from here, and it doesn’t help how crazy responsive she is—the briny sweat dripping down her temples, her bare belly tightening, her hair wildly strewn about and coming more undone.
“So wet for me. Keep squeezing, Princess. Ride my fingers. Don’t stop until you make a mess everywhere,” I order in a brassy bellow.
I circle inside of her with a fast-paced motion, getting rougher with each flick and scissor of my digits. She rides my hand down to my knuckles, gushing off-white juices. Our groans coalesce into one, hers overlaying mine in volume, booming around the stadium like an announcer’s voice. She’s so incredibly sexy like this, begging me to come, using my body as much as I’m using hers.
Still working my hand, I rear forward to drag my lips against her stomach, kitten-licking her belly button. I can tell she’s close by the way her eyes are rolling back and the vise around my fingers. And perfect timing, because my cock needs to be buried inside her. I need to feel her pulse around my girth, need to look her in the eyes as I fuck her rough and slow.
“Kit,” she whines, biting down on her lower lip so hard that blood bubbles to the surface.
“I know, Princess. You’re doing so well,” I coax.
She fucks my fingers, her head tossed back against the wall, sweat running down her neck and disappearing below the collar of her shirt. And then she shatters before me, thighs suffocating my skull, hands pawing at the edge of the bench, a geyser of wetness erupting over my knuckles.
“Fuck,” I grunt, desperately needing to get my pants off before I lose my load. My dick hasn’t even been inside of her yet, and just watching her orgasm was enough to almost make me come.
Faye drops her legs back down in front of her, leveling her breathing as best as she can, her entire body now clad in perspiration.
I take my index finger and push it past the seal of her lips, smearing her own cum on her tongue.
“I told you,” I rasp, pride waxing inside me. “The sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
She nods in agreement, watching as I slowly withdraw my digit, just grazing her scarlet-mottled bottom lip. Then her eyes coast over the embarrassingly noticeable situation in my pants, and her fully loaded stare makes my cock spasm.
“Take your pants off,” she commands tersely.
“Take your shirt off,” I volley.
With an annoyed noise, she pulls her tank top off in one smooth motion, letting it fall to some shadowed area of the penalty box. Her small, full breasts rest against her body, swaying slightly as she moves to readjust her position, and the sight of her hard nipples makes every nerve ending inside of me catch aflame.
“Pants.”
I slowly roll my pants down as overdue need kindles in my stomach, very aware of Faye’s eyes watching my every movement. The minute my cock springs out, I feel a thousand times better. Sweatpants aren’t supposed to be restrictive, but it’s a whole different matter when you’re hard.
The heft of my dick protrudes forward, the ruddy tip smeared in creamy pre-cum, and I add a hand to the root in some fruitless effort to stabilize it.
Faye leans forward, tracing her finger along the vein spanning the underside of my penis, and the softness of her touch swamps me with so much stimulation that I can’t help the moan she extracts from me. Her digit ends its expedition at the mushroom head, and she swirls around my seed before sticking her finger in her mouth. She suckles loudly, only for her lips to pop off with an overexaggerated suction sound.
This fucking woman.
