“You touch yourself?” I ask. My voice is hoarse with lust.
“Of course,” she retorts over her shoulder.
I slide my hand over her hand and rest it on her upper thigh. “Under your clothes or over your panties? You slide your fingers into your warm cunt or you put a shower head to your little clit?”
She squirms her fine ass against my cock, sending bolts of arousal through my already molten blood. I bite down on my inner cheek so I don’t come like a schoolboy.
“You seem to know a lot about a girl’s masturbation,” she says when she finds her voice.
“I’m a literate man, Slick. I can read. Now lean your head back against my shoulder.” I stroke her inner thigh and press her legs even farther apart until the spandex stretches thin against her pussy. I touch her lightly over her clothes. Her lips are plump and her sex is hot. “You feel the rod against your ass, Slick? One of these days, we’re taking your pants off and you’re going to sit on my cock. Every time you wriggle your ass, you’re going to feel my hard shaft in different places and it’s going to make you come hard.”
“You’ve been saying all day you’re going to take me but all I feel is your hand between my legs,” she snaps.
“Oh, so you want to be a brat, do you?” I smile. This is even better than I thought it would be. “Tell me if this hurts.” I smack her pussy.
She yelps. “What did you just do?”
I smack her again. “Did it hurt?”
“Of course it hurts.”
What a pretty little liar. She nearly came on that second hit. I take my hand away and place it on her thigh, stroking my fingers up and down that firm surface, coming close to her cunt but never touching it.
She coughs lightly and wriggles again, trying for that contact.
“You want something, Slick?”
“I thought you were going to make me”–wriggle wriggle—“come.”
“You gotta be honest then. That’s how this works. You tell me if you like it when I’m caging your pussy lips between my fingers or rubbing circles around your clit. When I slap you, you tell me if you want it harder.” I slide my hand up and press the side of it firmly against her sex. I can feel her muscles contract. “Tell me,” I order.
Her mouth remains stubbornly closed. I move my hand away. She grabs it, digging her nails into my palm. “Do what you said you were going to do.”
A true brat. I bring our hands down hard on her covered pussy. She jerks and screams at the contact, her whole body tensing as a small orgasm rolls through her. I kiss the side of her ear and press her tightly against my chest. “We’re just warming up, Slick. You should hang on.”
I bracket her pussy lips with my index and middle finger and start drawing them back and forth. She writhes on my lap, a sexy demon ruining me with every rub and motion. My own erection grows thicker, stiffer.
“Not enough,” she gasps. She wants more and I want to give it to her. I reach under her shirt and free her breasts. Slick moans when my fingers close around her plump flesh.
“Your tits are soft, babe. Softer than a–” I stop because there isn’t anything that compares. I pull the cups down and pull her tits out. I pinch one nipple and then the other, reveling in her soft gasps and her squirming ass. I want to come so bad. I want to pull out my cock, lift her up and ram into her in one swift motion. I want to fuck her so hard and so long that she can’t walk the next day.
“I bet you’re wet underneath these pants, aren’t you? I bet your panties are soaked with your juice. You ever taste yourself?” I’m sure she hasn’t. She’s too shy, too innocent for that. “When you tell me your name, I’ll take off your panties and drink your juice directly from the source. I’ll tongue your pussy so hard you’ll forget your own name. You want that, don’t you?”
A low, long whine escapes from between her lips. “You’re teasing me.”
“Yeah.” Because watching her get turned on, feeling that small orgasm roll through her body, hearing her voice turn from high-pitched to low and back again as she tries to release some of the desire that is building inside of her is the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. “The more I tease you, the better it’s going to be.” I roll the now-hard nipple between my fingers.
“Too much of a good thing is bad,” she retorts.
I respond by slapping her pussy. She cries out, a thready, needy plea for release. I need to taste her, even if it’s just her mouth. I abandon her tits, cup her jaw and angle her face for a kiss. My other hand busies with rubbing the sting away. She tries to close her legs, to keep the sensations in, but I force her open, widening my stance. I deepen the kiss, trying to meld us together so she can see how we belong as one.