Page 4 of Jaz
“Jaz, please … Do it. Make me …”
His fist tightened on his cock in anticipation. “Make you what?”
She pushed down on his hand, bore down on his thumb and rocked back on her heels. “Come.”
“Not until I get inside you.” Even as he said the words, he curled the two fingers inside her against the soft pad of her G-spot and rubbed. Her breath caught and her knuckles turned white as she pressed her hands into the table.
“Please. I’m ready. I can’t take it, please …”
“What if I’m not ready?” Jaz teased.
“Liar. Fuck me.”
Dear God. “Say it again.”
“Liar.”
“Goddamn wench.” He tried to smile but it came across as something more feral and grimacing. “Say it.”
“Fuck me.” She rocked herself on the invading digits and he let go of his cock long enough to reach up and pop the hooks on her bra. The straps immediately slid down her arms.
“One more time. Say it, Mandi.” Jaz stepped in close, his cock brushing against her ass, sliding down, and as he pulled his fingers out, he drew some of her wetness across the crown. He bit back a curse of his own and touched the head to her vacated opening.
“Fuck. Me.”
She settled farther back on her heels and impaled herself on the first half-inch. He’d have let her keep going if she’d had something to hold on to. As it was, she didn’t. It was up to him. He gripped her hips, pushed forward, and her feet, hit the floor again as he sank inside her. The lace of her torn panties added another bit of sensation to his already sensitive cock, and the sight of it made his mouth dry.
Their groans, grunts, moans and sighs echoed off the concrete walls. He pulled back then pushed in again, letting go of her right hip to reach under her. She lifted in response. His palm closed over one of her large, oh so fucking perfect tits with the pebbled nipple tormenting him. He wanted to taste it, roll it around his tongue, nibble on it with the edges of his teeth. He wanted to grip, tug and twist it. He wanted … so many things.
Jaz leaned over her back. He pumped his hips against the softest, most incredible, out-of-this-world ass and drove his cock deep inside the hottest pussy. He kissed along her shoulder, licked up her neck, and she turned her head a fraction so he could place a kiss on her cheek. Their eyes stayed locked in the mirror and she smiled. He answered with one of his own, dropping his other hand between her legs, his big fingers reaching for her clit.
“Do you need this? Do you need this to come?” he whispered into her hair.
“Yes. Always.”
“Then give it to me.”
Her eyes flashed with a hint of laughter. “But … But it’s my birthday.”
“So. You think I should give it to you?”
“Yes. Please.”
He rubbed circles around the little button, drawing moans and gasps from between her lips. He lifted and watched his cock as he pulled back with his hips then watched it disappear inside her again. They were both covered with her juices. Each time he pulled out, more pooled inside the ripped crotch of her ruined panties.
“Now that you brought up birthday gifts, you know what that means, don’t you?”
“No.”
The thought alone was going to make him come. “It means …” He leaned down again, pressed his mouth to her ear, pulled down on her clit, and whispered, “A spanking.”
“Ooohhh.”
She shook her head at the same moment her pussy started to spasm against his cock. She moved against his thumb and forefinger. Her thrashing near violent, threatened to dislodge his cock. She bit her lip, letting out only a small whimpering moan as the orgasm quaked through her.
He couldn’t hold out anymore. The sensation, the feel of her, the sight of her, the ‘real’ her, the words “fuck me” on her lips was too much … Too much in the face of her coming all over his dick.
He let go of her clit and held her hips as he slammed into her without mercy. The sweat that had been beading on top of his bald head started to slide down the sides of his face and the back of his neck. He worked her pussy hard, rode her from behind for every ounce he was worth. He pushed her up on her toes then pulled her back on those goth-looking, fuck-me bootheels.
