Page 88 of Meet Your Match
I left the shirt on, open, exposing my chest and stomach with the sleeves shoved up to my elbows. My briefs were a fucking tent, cock aching to be free, but I stayed clothed as I walked over to her again.
“Are you wet?” I asked her, smoothing my thumb over her jawline.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Show me.”
She slid one hand between her legs, eyelids fluttering a bit as she swiped her finger under her thong. When she pulled it out again and showed me her glistening fingertips, I bit my lip at the sight.
“We can do better than that,” I said, and then I pulled my briefs off, kicking them to the side. I palmed myself, wrapping my fist around my cock and smoothing it with two slow pumps. Maven practically salivated when I did, her thigh muscles activating like she wanted to clench her legs together.
I used my feet to spread her knees even wider, and then held them there just in case — so she had no choice but to stay splayed.
“Open that pretty mouth for me, pet.”
“Say please.”
My eyebrows shot into my hairline at how quickly she combatted my request, and with a short laugh barreling out of my chest, I held my cock at the seam of her lips.
“Please,” I said with a smirk.
Her eyes glittered with amusement as she opened her mouth, tongue skating out to flick my tip.
I hissed at that first touch, shaking my head as her eyes smiled up at me. But she held her mouth open, and I slicked the crown of me with her tongue before dipping my cock inside her mouth just an inch.
“Fuck,” I groaned, every nerve in me firing to life at the feel of her wet heat. I withdrew, running my head over her bottom lip before I pressed inside again, this time a bit deeper.
Maven tilted her head down a bit, angling her jaw so she could take me in without gagging. It was the most torturous, beautiful sight — her knees spread wide, nipples peaked, mouth open and ready to be fucked.
My hands found her hair, and I carefully held her to me, working myself out and then deeper inside. Each time she made room for another centimeter of me, I groaned my approval, flexing my hips and watching my cock disappear between her lips.
“Eyes on me, baby,” I said, and when she looked up at me with teary vision, I cursed. “Yes, baby. Just like that. Watch me while I fuck your mouth.”
She moaned around me, which made me see stars, and I held onto the back of her head and picked up mypace. I slid in over and and over, deeper and deeper, until she had all of me inside her.
And she didn’t choke, didn’t gag, didn’t tap on my thighs and ask for a break.
She kept her eyes glued to mine, holding her mouth open wide, tongue gliding along the underside of my shaft. When she took me so deep I felt the tip of her tongue on my balls, I shivered, holding her there for a long moment before I pulled out completely.
A strand of saliva connected us, from her lips to my glistening cock, and Maven panted, looking up at me like she was ready for more.
“You wicked thing,” I said, smoothing my thumb over her wet bottom lip. “You’re far too good at that.”
“Apparently not,” she said, still breathing hard. “I don’t have your cum down my throat.”
I bit back a groan, holding out my hands to help her stand. When she carefully made her way up, I framed her face, kissing her long and deep.
“That’s because I want to come in this cunt again,” I said, palming her roughly under her dress. I smiled against her lips when I felt how drenched her thong was, and I rubbed it against her before sliding it to the side with one fingertip. “I knew we could do better,” I said, slicking that finger inside her and curling it deep. “You’re fuckingsoaked, Maven.”
“Vince,” she pleaded, and I nipped at her bottom lip before I withdrew my finger from her pussy and smacked the side of her ass.
“Strip for me,” I said against her mouth. “I want to see my girl.”
I backed up then, grinning at her as I took a seat on the couch. I spread my legs wide, wrapping my hand around my wet cock and waiting.
For a moment, she stood there slack-jawed, but then she breathed a laugh and shook her head before sliding her thumbs into the band of her thong. She slid it down her thighs and knees, letting it rest at her ankles before she grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it overhead.
Her hair fell over her shoulders when the dress was discarded, the long, thick, jet-black strands falling to cover her breasts. But as if she knew I’d ask, she pulled that hair into one hand and draped it behind her, letting me take her in.
