Plus-Sized Perfection

She shook her head. “No, we’ve mixed fun and pleasure. Outside of the office, you are not the boss anymore.” She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his neck. “Out of the office, you are just plain old Hunter, and that guy I can play with a lot.”

“You want to play?” he asked.

“I do, but I really need to go.” She went to get off his lap, but he wouldn’t let her go, and with a quick flip, she was on her back on the sofa, and he was over her. She opened her thighs, and giggled as he nibbled at her neck.

This was totally wrong, breaking every single one of her rules, and her rules were important. Always so important.

“I don’t want you to leave. You can stay here, and we’ll get up early, and I’ll take you home.”

“What are we going to do all night long?”

“I’ve fucked you once. I can think of a million different things I want to do to you.”

She couldn’t cave, but even as she tried to fight her need, his cock pressed against her pussy, and all thought of turning him down fled. She didn’t want to fight him.

“If all we do is fuck how will we sleep?”

“Sleeping is overrated. We’ll still be awake by the time I take you home.” The shirt she wore was already open, and his lips were trailing down to her nipples. He took one nipple into his mouth, and she cried out as he bit down, the pain adding to her pleasure. She wanted to push him away, and also tug him closer so the pleasure didn’t stop.

His tongue ran between the valley of her breasts, and circled the second bud. She closed her eyes, especially as he began to dance down her body, dipping into her belly button, and then down further.

She opened her eyes as he pulled away, the heat in his eyes calling to her own. She spread her thighs wide so that he could see her clearly. Reaching down, she opened the lips of her sex so that he could see her pussy.

“Now that is a fucking pretty sight,” he said.

Easing a finger through her slit, she got it coated in cream, and held it up for him to have a taste.

He took her wrist, and flicked his tongue across her fingers. “I love the taste of you.”

He gripped her hips, pulling her up so that she came to his mouth. With the angle that he had her at, she was able to look down her body and watch as his tongue slid across her slit. He licked her clit, flicking back and forth. It was hard for her to keep on watching him as the pleasure rushed through her. Cupping her breasts, she teased her own nipples as he licked her pussy. He didn’t stay on her clit, and moved down, going inside her, and sliding in hard, using his tongue like a cock. He fucked her three times, and then eased back to tease her clit, each flick on her clit drawing her closer to another orgasm.

“I love tasting your pussy,” he said, sliding his tongue over her clit before sucking it into his mouth.

She cried out and shook as he brought her to a second orgasm with his tongue. Even as she begged him to stop, Hunter didn’t until she was shaking, all the pleasure rushing through her body making her sensitive to his touch.

On the way out of the shower, he had found a packet of condoms, and he tore into the foil packet, and rolled the latex over his cock. Even though they were both clean, and she did believe him, she wasn’t willing to risk pregnancy. She didn’t know what this was, but she didn’t for a second think it was love either.

She barely knew Hunter, and in the back of her mind, she knew this was completely crazy. She shouldn’t be having sex with him, and yet it didn’t seem to matter. She couldn’t stop. She needed him.

Payton watched as the tip of his cock ran up and down her pussy, and then began to slide inside her.

Hunter wasn’t small, and in one smooth thrust, filled her completely. When he took her hands and pressed them beside her head, something was different. This wasn’t a quick fuck against the door. They were on his sofa, but this had way more meaning. She didn’t know for sure, but as she stared into his dark brown eyes, she felt a connection to him that she had never felt with anyone else.

She was no virgin, and she wasn’t a romantic either. At twenty-nine years old, she knew that love was something rarely shared. She wasn’t a cynic. Her views came from what she had seen over her life, and it wasn’t always pretty, not by a long shot.