Page 15 of Trig
She nodded, licked her lips. Her thighs quivered.
“With a man?” I clarified, ready to poke the eyes out of any guy who saw her like this. Felt her like this. Heard her.
“No,” she whispered.
Thank fuck. Was it the caveman in me to be happy about that answer? Was I a hypocrite since I sure as hell wasn’t a virgin? Buckle bunnies had been great to bust a nut in when I was younger. I’d been horny all the time, desperate to get my dick wet in any offered hole. It’d been fun for awhile, but eventually, the appeal wore off. I wanted what my parents had. The connection. Love. Fire hot enough that they made eight babies. Built a life around them on the family land.
I’d known I wasn’t going to find it with the women who hung around the rodeos, so I stopped.
All this time, I’d been waiting for this. For Ellie.
I removed my finger from her hot little hole.
“No!” she repeated, this time frantic.
She was an eager little thing once she got going.
I put my finger in my mouth and sucked on it, getting her flavor on my tongue. I groaned, then put it right back to the source. I wanted the first thing nice and deep in her pussy to be my dick, so I slid in just enough to feel for her g-spot.
I knew the second I found it, not only because the feel of the flesh there was different, but because she startled. Her hands flew out of the center pocket of my hoodie and gripped my forearms.
She shouted my name.
Fuck, yes.
With my other hand, I worked her hard, little clit. She started to circle her hips, riding just the top of my finger.
“That’s it,” I murmured in her ear, looking down her body and watching. “Fuck yourself on my finger. Show me how my good girl comes.”
It was thegood girlthat set her off in a way that had me thinking she was starved for praise. That it was the absolution she needed to do something she thought–or perhaps had been taught–was naughty. Or bold. Or dirty.
She was dirty. Fucking filthy because the way she rode me with just a little fingering was uninhibited and wild. She screamed, yes, fuckingscreamedher pleasure. Her pussy dripped all over my hand as she came and came. Fuck, even onto the floor beneath her. I could only imagine if I got deeper if she’d be a squirter.
She slumped against me, wilted and sated. Heat radiated from her.
My dick ached. My balls were full.
Pushing our plates out of the way, I cleared a spot for her. I brought my legs together, lifted her up and bent her over the table.
My hoodie was still gathered up and her peach of an ass was bare to me. With her feet dangling–she was that small–her pussy peeked out as she moved her legs. I lifted one of her knees and set it onto the table beside her so she was open nice and wide. Before she could push herself up, I held her down at the small of her back while I undid my belt buckle with the other.
“Trig?” she breathed.
“My turn, sugar.”
I was stroking my dick to the sight of her ass and swollen pussy within seconds. While I wanted to sink into it, especially knowing I’d be the first, knowing she’d be so tight, that I’d find her cherry and break through it, I didn’t. I wasn’t fucking her for the first time on my kitchen table. Especially not when I wasn’t going to last longer than a horny teenager.
She looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes widened when she saw what I was packing. I was ten inches and thick. The head was broad and brutal. I’d fit, and I knew the good girl in her would try so hard to take it all.
Pre-cum seeped from the slit in a constant stream.
“This is for you, sugar. You do this to me. I’ll give it to you soon. Every fucking inch.”
My thumb slid down and between her pert cheeks. Found her little taut asshole and brushed over it.
“Trig!”
Just thinking about two virgin holes and how I was going to take them soon had me blowing my load. Thick spurts shot out endlessly in thick ropes across her ass, over her spread pussy lips. Her thighs.
