The Scotch Queen (Scotch 2)

He breathed hard through his thrusts. “I know.” He pumped into me harder, grinding against my clit and giving me an extra push that gave me a more powerful orgasm than before. I spiraled into a chaotic whirlwind of satisfaction and screamed through the sensation, not caring if everyone in the house heard me.

“Give it to me…” My hands slipped through his sweat as I tried to grab on to him.

He closed his eyes and released an involuntary moan before his thrusts ceased. He inserted himself completely inside me before he came, his cock thickening within me as he released. Another violent moan escaped his mouth again as he finished, filling me with every ounce of his seed.

Now that the fun was over, I lay back and caught my breath. I didn’t realize how sweaty I was until we were both satisfied. My body had been moving with his the entire time, my body meeting his thrusts as I took his length when he gave it. I didn’t even realize it was happening. When Crewe and I fucked, I didn’t think about anything else but our bodies moving together.

And I suspected he didn’t either.

4

Crewe

When we were finished, London got into the shower.

She walked away without speaking a word, her hair stuck to the sweat on her neck. When she walked away, some of my come seeped from her entrance and down the inside of her thigh. I watched it trail down until she was no longer in the room.

Fuck, that was hot.

I lay back on the bed and listened to the shower run. Her naked body was under that warm water, her smooth skin wet and slippery. My body was covered in sweat, and I didn’t want to lie on the bed anymore.

I decided to join her.

She stood under the water with shampoo massaged into her hair. The soap bubbles clung to various parts of her body, including her tits. Her curves were even more beautiful surrounded by a cloud of steam.

She didn’t turn around when I walked inside, either because she didn’t care or didn’t notice. The shower was large, big enough for more than two people, so I wasn’t hogging her space.

I was satisfied with that erotic session, but I wanted to be with her anyway. I’d counted the number of times she said my name.

Four.

Maybe she hated me. Maybe she wished I were dead. But she certainly enjoyed fucking me.

That gave me a strong sense of accomplishment.

I’d never forget the sight of her touching herself, getting her pussy wet by thinking about me. She didn’t even notice that I’d walked into the room because she was lost in the moment, her nipples hard and her breathing deep and rugged. Her thighs were spread wide, and she rubbed that wet clit with everything she had.

When my mouth pressed against her lips, I knew how soaked she was.

Drenched.

She went crazy when I went down on her. Her nails nearly cut me because she gripped me so tightly. She flexed her hips and gave me more of herself, and that only made me want more of her.

She was incredible.

I’d never had sex as amazing as that. I’d never been with a woman so gorgeous. I knew she was my slave and had no way of escape, but that wasn’t an act. She enjoyed me.

Every. Fucking. Inch.

I pressed my chest to her back and wrapped my arms around her petite waist. My mouth found her shoulder, and I pressed a kiss there, tasting the soap she’d just lathered into her body. I preferred to taste my own sweat on her body, but this would do.

She turned her head over her shoulder. “Wanted to keep me company?”

Wanted to keep myself company. “No. Just wanted to save water.” My hands slid across her waist and back to my sides.

“Very noble.” She turned around and tilted her head back so she could rinse the shampoo out of her hair. Her tits were soapy and wet, curvy and flawless. She had the perfect body, and it didn’t seem like she even realized it.

I grabbed the shampoo bottle and squirted some into my hair. I lathered the soap as I watched her stand under the shower, the suds running down her body. She was in a different mood when she was satisfied. Like rose petals on the wind, she drifted slowly. With lidded eyes, she was calm and peaceful.

It was the direct opposite of how she was just minutes ago.

She was a good lay the first time I had her, but the more we were together, the more her colors showed. We knew each other’s bodies better, understood each other’s likes and dislikes. I’d never bedded the same woman so frequently besides Josephine, and that didn’t even count. Our relationship was short and rushed. That’s probably why it didn’t last long. And Josephine wasn’t even that great in the sack. London, on the other hand, was incredible. I wonder if her list of partners was as long as mine.