To my surprise, she doesn’t even flinch.
Instead, she narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.
“How serious are you about that?”
My cock twitches.
“Very,” I say. Without thinking. Again.
But either Sabrina is some kind of karmic gift from a gracious god, or she’s not thinking either, because her next move is one that makes my dick throb and my heart skip a beat.
“Get your fucking clothes off, then,” she says.
She puts her hands on my chest and kicks the door shut behind her.
We spend the next few moments in a frenzy. She tears my shirt off of me, sending buttons flying all over my hardwood floors. I get her jeans undone and her shirt off over her head.
God help me.
The La Perlas are black.
At some point in our desperate scramble toward nudity, her lips meet mine.
It’s fucking fireworks.
No. It’s beyond fireworks.
It’s Disneyland, New Year’s Eve as the clock strikes midnight on the cusp of a new millennium. Mickey Mouse has just announced the end of world hunger, and Donald Duck has just brokered world peace.
“I need you,” she gasps against my lips.
Before she can ask me again, I’m on my knees. My lips move against her body, giving her a different kind of kiss altogether, and her little black La Perlas have been tossed with reckless abandon across my living room floor.
“Fuck!” she moans as I slip my tongue against her clit.
Not only is she wet—she’s fucking sweet.
Like honey. Like ambrosia. Like a fine fucking wine that ought to be savored…
But I can’t stop myself for long enough to slow down and enjoy the taste.
I need more of her.
Now.
I hook her calves over my shoulders and lift her against my mouth. The hours that I’ve managed to squeeze in at the gym pay off as I carry her to my bed like that: riding my face and smearing her juices all over my lips.
“You’re fucking ovulating,” I tell her, breathing heavy as I toss her into my bed. “You’re in heat—I can taste it.”
“Fucking good then,” she snarls, crawling across the mattress to me. “Put your baby in me!”
She’s on all fours, clawing at my belt in an instant. She wants my cock so bad, her fingers have forgotten how belts work. That only makes me harder. I have to push her back on the bed and watch her pout while I unbuckle it myself.
The button, though. And the zipper.
Those, she figures out for herself.
Her mouth on my cock feels desperate. Hungry. She laps my pre-cum up with an animalistic eagerness that makes me want to shoot my cum down her throat until she’s gagging on it.