Stories From The 6 Train - Page 416

A scream rips out of her almost immediately, her body twitching and bucking as she comes. Her juices flow out, covering my hand, and I have to have a taste.

I drop my mouth down to where her pussy is convulsing on my hand and lap at her slit while she digs her fingers into my hair, pulling me against her like she can’t get enough of this. Just like me.

When her quaking body finally begins to come down, relaxing against the wall in a boneless heap, I stand and wrap her up in my arms, looking down at her wide-eyed expression of shock and wonder.

“Dax,” she whispers, lifting a hand to my face and touching my lips. “What are we doing?”

I press my begging cock against her. “What I’ve wanted to do for a really fucking long time. What we should have done a long time ago.”

Whitney gasps, looking down at my dick and swallowing hard, her eyes going even wider. She reaches down as if she has to touch it, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

“You like what you see, Whit?”

Her eyes flick up to mine, then back down as she takes my cock in her hand.

I hiss out a breath, watching her the whole time. “You want some of that, baby? Because I really fucking want to be inside that sweet pussy right now.”

Her hand tightens around my shaft, and she looks back up at me and bites her lip. “What if it’s a bad idea?”

I shake my head. “From where I’m standing, I think it’s the best fucking idea I’ve ever had.”

She laughs, the shakes her head seriously. “I can’t do this here. I could lose my job.”

I grind my teeth. “Then put your clothes on. I’m taking you home.”

I watch as she hurries and dresses, and she keeps looking back at me like she wants to jump me right there. Then we’re out the door and headed toward the 6 Train. It can’t get us home fast enough.

Whitney

“Dax, what if this is a bad idea?”

I look at him seated next to me on the train, his eyes blazing with barely contained desire. I can’t believe he’s looking at me like this. Like he has to have me right the fuck now or he’s going to go out of his mind.

And I really can’t believe what went down in the dressing room backstage. Part of me feels like I must be dreaming. Because there’s no way the man I’ve fantasized about for months and months is just as desperate to fuck me as I am to let him do it.

He watches me for a minute, then says, “Do you want me?”

I nod before I can think better of it. “So much.”

His lips tip up. “Then I don’t think it can be a bad idea. Because, Whitney? I’ve been fantasizing about seeing you do what you did on that stage for longer than you would believe.

I gasp. Is he for real? But he keeps going, and his words have me squirming and pressing my thighs together, wishing there weren’t other people on this train with us.

“Seeing you up there dancing made me so hard, baby. All I wanted to do was pull my cock out and come all over the place.”

That turns me on so much. “I want to watch you do that.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Do you now?”

I nod, suddenly feeling that same sense of power knowing that I can drive him crazy. “Every night I touch myself, imagining you doing the same.”

Dax groans. “Fuck, Whitney, that’s so hot. When we get home, you’re going to strip for me again. And this time you’re going to watch what it does to me. And when you’re so wet and needy, wanting to come so badly you can’t stand it, you’re going to sit on my cock and ride me like I’ve wanted you to since you first moved in.”

Oh my god. Him talking like that is so hot. And when we get home, barely making it through the door because we can’t keep our hands to ourselves, he rips his shirt off, making me moan. Even though I’ve seen him without his shirt a million times, this time I can actually touch him. I run my fingernails down his chiseled chest, loving the way a shiver runs through him.

Dax presses another searing kiss to my mouth before swatting me on the ass. “Okay, Whit. Strip for me.”

He leads me into the living room and leaves me standing in the center while he settles on the couch and undoes his pants, taking his cock—so long and thick and perfect—in his fist and giving it a few slow pulls. He nods at me. “Strip.”

Tags: Alexis Angel Erotic
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