Blame It On The Gin:On The Rocks

"I don't have time to play games," she says. "I am what I am. You get what you get."

"Lucky me," I say, kneeling on the bed before her, leaning over and kissing her again. As I do, I squeeze her breasts, then run my hands down to her waist, and then up her skirt. "No stockings," I whisper in her ear.

She smiles. "Maybe I should have made it harder to get."

"No," I say, "you did it perfectly. Your bare legs were teasing me all night."

She smiles. "Should we turn off the lights or something?"

I chuckle. "Are you nervous for me to see you? Really see you?"

She shakes her head. "Not nervous. More… I don't know. This is all very new to me, Grant. Show me what to do. Tell me how this works."

I roll out of the bed and stand next to her, reaching for the bedside lamp and turning it on then using the button on the side of my nightstand to turn down the overhead lights.

"Ooh, sexy," she teases.

"This is how we do this," I tell her. "We take off our clothes, one item at a time. Or as fast as you want. There's really not an order to it."

She smiles, rolling out of the bed, standing next to me. "Okay. Well, since I'm only wearing panties and this dress, I think you have more pieces to remove than me."

"You're not wearing a bra?"

She shakes her head. "No, the dress is strapless and, well, my tits are perky."

"Fuck," I say. "That's sexy."

She rolls her eyes. "Not sexy, practical."

"Maybe so, but now I'm dying to see you out of that dress in nothing but a pair of panties."

She smirks, hands on her hips. "Well, I will as long as you get down to your boxers."

"Briefs," I tell her.

She smiles. "Okay. See, we're learning so many things about each other."

I unbuckle my pants, slipping off my trousers. "Look,” I say, “I'm playing by the rules. I'm in nothing but my underwear. What do you think?"

Ginny's eyes are wide, but now they're not filled with innocence; they're filled with want. She steps towards me, her fingers itching to run over my abs, my biceps, my body. My rock-hard cock.

But I shake my head, lifting a hand to refuse her.

"No touching," I say. "Not unless you're down to your panties."

She laughs. "Okay. I see you're a stickler for rules."

"Yes," I say, "I am."

"Good to know," she says. She turns around, her back to me, and she unzips the side of her dress. She lets it float to the floor and I get to take in her hourglass silhouette from behind. Her soft, smooth skin, bare shoulders, a beautiful back. Her hips curving out, her ass nice and round, and her thighs delicious and creamy.

"So," she says, turning to face me, "can I touch now?"

I groan, taking her in. "Your tits are more than perky," I say, stepping toward her, running a hand over her breasts. "They're fucking perfect."

She laughs softly. "Okay. See, you're touching me, but I'm not touching you. This isn't fair."

I take her hand and run it over my chest all the way down to my groin. "Oh, you can feel me. Touch me, taste me, anything you want, Ginny, I'm yours."

She exhales slowly, her hands running over my fabric-covered shaft. "You're so hard," she whispers.

"For you," I tell her.

And then, well, then we get lost in one another. Completely.

I drag her to the bed, her head on the pillow, her naked body exposed. I run my hands down her sides, hitching my fingers on the edge of her panties waistband, and I pull them down to her ankles, tossing them aside.

"Fuck, your pussy looks beautiful," I tell her.

She drops to her knees, opening herself up for me like a flower, delicate sensual petals to be plucked. She closes her eyes as I run my fingers over her sweet center.

She lets out a gasp of pleasure as I press my mouth to her pussy lips, teasing my tongue between her folds. The whisper, the whimper, the moan—becomes more. A panting, a longing, a lifetime of orgasms built up.

This girl? I'm going to help her release.

She presses her hand to her mouth. "Oh my God," she moans. "I feel like, oh my God, every inch of my skin is on fire in the most incredible way. Does that make sense?"

I run my fingers over her slit. Her back arches. She lets go with a beautiful hum. "It makes perfect sense," I say. “It's called being eaten out. Do you want more? Because, Ginny, I’m hungry as hell for your cunt."

"Yes," she pants, "please. More."

I give her what she wants, dipping my mouth to her sweet center, running my tongue up and down her. She's delicious. She tastes like pure, ripe pussy. She tastes like mine. I kiss her, lick her, suck her cute little clit. But I know she's tight, wound up in a way she didn't realize, and so I begin to finger her, looking up between her legs. She needs to stretch out if she’s going to take my massive, throbbing cock.