Holding most of her weight with one arm, I use my other hand to push up between her legs, pushing aside the fabric of her dress and rubbing her panties.
“You’re already fucking drenched,” I snarl in her ear.
She moans in return, shifting in my arms, twitching her hips as though chasing the pleasure.
“It’s you,” she whispers. “You make me crazy. Is it too much? Is it gross?”
I kick open my bedroom door and carry her to the bed, laying her down.
“Does it feel gross? You’re sexy, beautiful, perfect.”
Before she can answer, I slide my hand up her bare thigh and grab her panties. She gasps as I pull them away, all the way down her legs, then toss them to the floor.
“Get your dress out of the way,” I growl. “I need to finger that sopping little slit of yours. You’re. So. Fucking. Wet.”
She bunches her dress in fists as I bring my finger to her pussy. My manhood struggles to escape, pulsing, pumping, as I take in the tempting sight of her pussy.
Her pussy is pink, her lips engorged, her clit needy.
But it’s not her appearance alone that drives me feral.
It’s her warmth, her wetness.
I slip my finger inside of her, savoring the wet noise it makes. She lies back on the bed, her fists getting even tighter on her bunched clothes, but then cranes her head to stare up at me.
“You’re so fucking ready,” I tell her gruffly. “You can’t let your nerves get in the way. Your pussy feels so, so ready for my dick. But first, be a good Becca bee and squirt all over this bed for me. I’m going to finger you so hard. I’m going to really fucking enjoy making your pussy sing for me, Becca.”
“S-sing?” she gasps as I start to move my finger quicker, slipping it in and out of her innocent, untouched pussy.
“You’re already starting,” I growl, moving my finger faster, with more carnal impulse.
Her soaked pussy starts to make more wet noises for me, talking to me as I move my hand quicker, pushing deep.
Her body reverberates every time, her mouth twisted into a moan, her eyelids fluttering as though she’s finding it difficult to keep them open.
“That’s it.”
I lean over, giving myself more room to pump my arm.
She’s let go of her dress now, the hem falling down, covering my hand.
But I can still feel her, the way her pussy tightens around my finger.
I can still hear her moans, getting higher in pitch, coming faster…and then she gets breathy, as though she can’t produce noise anymore. It’s just her juicy, perfect pussy singing to me, making her wet sounds as I finger her like she deserves.
I slam her pussy, giving her a preview of what my massive cock is going to feel like, letting her feel what it’s like to be possessed by her man.
“That’s it,” I snap. “And don’t worry about screaming. The windows are closed. The door is closed. The neighbors won’t hear. My perfect virgin. You are perfect. Becca. Bee.”
I can’t help it anymore. As I finger-fuck her closer to an orgasm, my other hand goes to my crotch, rubbing up and down my length over my shorts.
I rub myself as I rub her, making my cock buzz warmer, hotter, boiling.
Then Becca melts for me, her hands clawing at the sheets, her eyes closed as she cranes her neck and lets out a warbling cry. Her hips move as though she’s possessed by the pleasure, unable to take the way it thunders through her.
“That’s it,” I snarl. “Keep soaking those fucking sheets. Goddamn, your body wants this.”
“So… so… so bad.”