“Why is it dangerous?” Ken finished unbuttoning his shirt on her behalf. “Getting cold feet?”
“Hardly.” Lana slipped off his leg, hand remaining on him. It moved effortlessly into his pants, drawing out his hard cock for her to admire. Damn, that’s nice. Big enough to entice her, but not too big to scare her off. Goldilocks is pleased. Finally, she had found one that was just right. “I’m so warm I can’t stop thinking about blowing you.” The carpet called to her knees, a siren’s song that would lead her mouth to his stiffness. I can taste his precum already. Her favorite. “Trust me, you’ve never had a woman do it like I do it.”
“Hmm.” Ken gripped her arms, preventing her from getting down on her knees. “No.”
“No?” What? That was new, and annoyingly different. Maybe a girl wanted to stick a cock in her mouth and go to town! “Something you need to tell me?”
“Yes.” Ah, that was a much better word. Even better when it included Ken wrapping his arms around her and pulling her down on top of him, her thighs lowering mischievously toward his. The closer she got to his cock, the closer she came to nirvana. “I want inside of you, but not like that.”
“Oh?”
She fell over with a mighty fumpf! Ken loomed over her, a dangerous look clouding his eyes. Oh, my. “Yes, oh. You can’t tease me with facts about your…” Suddenly his hand was between her legs. Lana opened them wider, air filling her lungs the moment his fingers made contact with her slit.
“About my what?”
“What do you want me to call it?”
Lana grinned. “My cunt and I are as good as friends as you and your cock. See? Those are fun words to say.”
“Indeed they are.” Ken pulled off his shirt. Lana pressed her hands upon his chest. Hard. Strong. Surging in breaths. “Anyway, as I was saying…”
“Yeah?” Lana hiked up her skirt so she could open her legs as wide as possible. Make no mistake, Mr. Andrews, I want you to fuck me. “What were you saying?” Say those dirty words and make me wetter.
Ken snatched the condom from where Lana left it on the bed. “You can’t tell me about how tight your cunt is and not expect me to fuck that first.”
He sat up, easing both his pants and boxers down until he stood in nothing but his skin. Clothes may have made the man, but Ken Andrews was no stranger to his nudity. He moved as effortlessly, as confidently as if he still had clothes on. How much of this confidence is coming from his cock? It was ready for her. Stiff. Tip dripping in precum, and all he did was look at her. His sack was rather impressive beneath that tuft of dark, curly hair. More of that hair trailed up his abdomen with the lightest dusting of it on his chest. This man groomed. A lot.
She thought he would lunge for her. Instead, he carefully removed her underwear, forcing her legs to come together and then split apart again. Ken’s eyebrows arched up when he found himself unexpectedly gazing into the core of her body. Like what you see? Extra pink, for you. Lana was quite familiar with what she looked like down there.
“Can’t decide if I should take this skirt off of you or not.”
“Too much effort.” At that announcement, Lana pulled her skirt up to her hips, bunching it into wrinkled bits within her fists. Ken guided her legs around until her head was on the nearest pillow. The man had an image he needed to see: Lana Losers, spread eagle in her pushup bra and hiked up pencil skirt. Her makeup had yet to smear, so her lips were full and red and her eyelashes daring him to ravage her. Her hair was already mussed and only acquiring more tangles. Wait until he fucks me. With any luck, she’d need a good hour to get the sex tangles out of her hair.
Ken knelt between her spread legs, one hand clasping the base of his cock and the other freeing the condom from its wrapper. Anytime now, Mr. Andrews. Fuck me for the first time. The first time was always the best. Or the worst. Lana had a feeling this was going to be the best.
“You know what’s hot?” The condom crowned his cock. The man was deliberately taking his time unrolling it down his shaft. He didn’t even look at it. His eyes were locked on Lana, drinking in her curves, her hair, her makeup, and most definitely her scent. “You.”