Pie’s hand is suddenly flat on my thigh. Pressing and rubbing over my cock. It’s mostly hard already, but it grows bigger with her attention. Her fingers pop the button on my jeans and drag the zipper down. I push up inside her a little deeper and she goes up on her tiptoes with her mouth wide open. Pressing against mine.
Our kissing becomes more frantic as she shoves the front of my jeans down, reaches in, and pulls out my dick. I pause our kissing so I can look down and watch as her small hand wraps around my thick shaft, her fingertips not quite meeting up to form a circle because of my wide girth.
“This is a pretty good start,” Pie whispers, her eyes open now. She throws me a lopsided grin. A devious grin. And then she slowly begins to bend down. My finger slips out of her pussy and drags a line of wetness up her belly, hidden under her miniskirt until she’s down on her knees.
She wraps both hands around my cock—eyes still locked with mine—and I growl, “Oh, fuck,” when she opens her pouty lips and slides her tongue back and forth along the underside of my cock.
I hold my breath with anticipation. Waiting, watching. And when her lips close around my head, I grab her hair and pull back, watching as my dick begins to disappear inside her mouth.
I encourage this action and her movements become faster and more deliberate. Her head bobbing in front of me now.
Pie looks up at me with a grin. She knows she’s killing me here. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me. And then she does it more. Her legs open—knees wide apart—and one hand slips down between them. I can’t really see her playing with her pussy because of her little skirt, but my imagination can fill in the blanks.
I press her head forward and she opens her mouth wider, trying to take more of me. I grit my teeth as her lips tighten against my shaft, and then I can’t just stand here anymore.
I grip her head with both hands and hold her still as my hips begin to move forward and back. She makes little gagging sounds that drives me nuts. And her hands let go of my dick and grab my thighs. Even through the thick denim of my jeans, I can feel her fingernails digging into my flesh.
This drives me crazy. I don’t want to come like this, but I let it go on for another minute or so. I just let myself enjoy it. Enjoy this one moment. This pause in our crazy curse. Pie and I haven’t had sex like this before. It’s been amazing. Mind-blowing, even. But it hasn’t been dirty until tonight.
I step back, watching my huge dick drop out of her mouth. Threads of saliva run down her chin as she looks up at me with those wide, blue eyes.
There is only one light on in the room. A small desk lamp in the corner. It throws a nice, warm glow across her face. Making hazy, romantic shadows.
Pie smiles. “Done already?”
“Woman, we’re just getting started.” I offer her a hand and she takes it, allowing me to help her up off her knees. Then I spin her around, press her back up against the door, and slip my hand back between her legs. “Your turn now.”
She sucks in a deep breath as I lower down, flipping her skirt up as I descend. I pull her panties down her thighs a little. Just enough to give me access. And then I tap her inner knee and say, “Open your legs.”
I watch her face for a reaction and she doesn’t disappoint when she bites her lip, and then obeys. Her eyes are sparkling and dancing with questions and anticipation. This movement pulls her panties tight and she stops, but I say, “Wider.” Until the thin cotton fabric is biting into the outer flesh of her thighs. Then I look up at her. Smile. And push my face right between her legs. When my tongue flicks against her clit, she gasps and thrusts her hips forward. Her hands reach for my head, the same way I did. Then her fingers are rubbing the velvet of my cropped hair.
I open my mouth and eat her pussy like I’m starving.
It’s not the first time I’ve done this for her, but it feels like the first time.
It feels different.
It feels like we are new people now.
And it’s got nothing to do with our bodies or being out in public.
It’s got something to do with our souls.
Pie begins to moan. “Holy shit.” Then her fingertips are grasping at my head. If I had hair of any length, she’d be pulling it right now. Twisting it up in knots. But I don’t have hair, so she has nothing to transfer that excitement to.
This thrilling sensation builds, making her wiggle. Making her back buck. Making her hips move forward and back. And I know she’s close.
“Pell,” she whispers huskily. “Pell, stop!”
Oh, fuck that.
I grin as my tongue sweeps across her clit and then I push my thumb up and give her little nub a swirl.
“Pell!” She’s close. “Pell, stop!”
I draw back a little. But I do not stop. “Come,” I command her. “Come right on my face, Pie.” Then I resume my ministrations. Both tongue and thumb. And there’s no way she can resist me.
Her legs clamp together, her knees locking against my face. Her fingertips dig into the flesh of my neck. Her back curves, and her breath gets heavy, and then she is moaning. Loud. My name is coming out of that pouty mouth of her hers. “Pell, Pell, Pell.” And then she quiets and goes limp. I stand up and catch her, slipping my hands under her knees so I can lift her up and press her back against the door.