Page 12 of Flexible Standards

I thrust deeply inside her, pulling out to drive back into her sweet cunt. I fuck her hard, but not fast, testing how much she can take, though each time she pushes back into me seeking more. Her breath becomes ragged, and the moment my name spills from her lips, I can’t hold on any longer. I continue my punishing pace for four more thrusts, and on the final one, I come—pissed at myself that she hasn’t had her five. As I attempt to catch my breath, filling the condom, I keep my cock nestled deep inside her.

She attempts to pull off me, but I grip her hips and keep her in place. “You owe me one more, Isla.”

“But you came,” she counters, looking over her shoulder at me.

“Stay here.”

Isla nods, and I slip my cock out of her, pulling off the condom and tying it off. She doesn’t move, awaiting my instruction, watching me as I slide off the bed to discard it. When I return from the bathroom after chucking it in the bin, she’s under the covers and likely feigning sleep.

“How am I supposed to eat your arse when you’re sleeping?”

She laughs, opening one eye. “Four is plenty.”

I climb into bed with her, pulling her leg over my hip once I’m under the covers. As I reach between her legs, she’s still wet for me. “Your cunt says otherwise.” I slip two fingers inside and curl them slowly. “One more. If I can make you come again on my hand, you’re joining me for dinner tomorrow after you’re done with your girlfriends.”

Driving my fingers deeper, her eyes briefly roll back as she whispers, “One more.”

I take her chin in my free hand and bring her mouth to mine, desperate to taste her. She writhes beneath my touch as I bring her closer to release. I know I’m pushing her, but I want her fucking spent and aching to have me touch her again. She grips my shoulders and grinds against my fingers, chasing her orgasm, and I can’t help but kiss her harder. I press my palm against her clit and drag my hand lower to increase the pressure, enough to make her come for me.

Her cries are muffled against my lips as she soaks my fingers. I’m unable to help myself, sliding under the sheets and lapping up every last drop of her.

Isla tangles her fingers in my hair, pulling me closer as I taste her, pressing two fingers into her tight cunt. As much as I want to give her number six for the night, I want her begging for more. I climb up the bed with my fingers still right where she needs me; slowly curling and teasing her.

“Get some rest, you have work in the morning.”

“How do you, ah, expect me to sleep with your fingers in my pussy?”

I pull my fingers out, replacing them with my bare cock. Her sleepy hums make me chuckle as I kiss her shoulder while she drifts off into a sex-drunk sleep. I won’t fuck her or come inside her—unless she wants me to—but feeling her tight cunt wrapped around me feels too fucking good. I need her, I can’t explain it. Considering that was probably the best sex of my life, I don’t understand how she could think she’s anything less than fucking perfect.

I pull my arms tighter around her, kissing her forehead. “Sleep well, angel.”

“Mmhmm,” the only words she’s able to manage as she snuggles into me.

I drift off, joining Isla in her orgasm-induced haze. For the rest of the night, I keep her close, afraid of the possibility she could leave in the morning. I’m not sure how we got here, but I’m fucking obsessed with a woman I just met.

I refuse to let this be one night.

isla

. . .

“You left?” Jodi shrieks, then lowers her voice, “Why did you leave?”

“I had work!” I whisper-shout. “It’s not like I could call in sick to fuck some kind of sex god.”

“Shhh,” one of the crotchety patrons hushes us.

“I left my number,” I whisper. “But it isn’t like he’s going to call.”

“People don’t call, Nana, they text. Check your phone.”

I pull it from my back pocket. When I’m at work, I always keep it on silent, but I’m surprised to find a fuckton of emails and a few spam texts… and one unknown from who I can only assume is Sam.

Unknown

Dinner. 10:30pm.

I type out a reply.

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