Page 30 of Savage Justice

“Yes,” she gasps.

I do the honours, drawing the lacy concoction down her legs and away from her feet. I take advantage of the brief respite to kick my jeans and underwear off. I do the same with my socks and trainers. I’m naked. She’s as close as doesn’t matter.

I kneel up and take in the sight. Clothing awry, her breasts and pussy beautifully displayed. I fist my cock and nudge her thighs apart.

“Nico, I…”

I pause. “If you want to say ’no’, do it now.” Please, God, have mercy…

“I don’t…”

Shit.

“I don’t want to say ’no’. I just…”

“Then, don’t. Open wide for me, sweetheart.”

“I wanted you to know I’m on the pill. And clean.”

“Good. Me, too. Not the pill bit…” I draw the flat of my palm across her slit, from her arse to her clit. It comes away soaking.

Molly closes her eyes and moans, lifts her hips as though to offer me more. I accept her offer. I gently part the lips of her pussy and slide one finger into her channel, as deep as I can go.

“Oh God, that feels… Aaaagh!”

Her inner muscles tighten around my digit. I add a second and pump in and out, watching each stroke with a sense of awe, of wonder. Her pussy quivers around my touch, and her clit swells to peep out from beneath its little hood. I slide the pad of my thumb over the needy, plump bud and savour the tremble of delight that shudders through her.

“Liking that?” I whisper.

“Yes,” she croaks.

I do it again, swiping the sensitive button from one side, then the other, sometimes featherlight, then more pressure, then barely there at all.

Molly goes wild, squirming and gasping, arching and thrusting against my hand. Her breath quickens, she’s panting now as I ramp up the intensity. I’m in no hurry, I can watch this display all day, but for Molly there’s a clear sense of urgency.

“Please,” she gasps. “I need…”

“I know what you need, girl.” I lean in to nibble her ear. “You can come when I’m ready.”

“No, now.”

“Soon,” I tell her, pinching her greedy clit between my thumb and index finger. “Wait. Calm down.”

“I can’t,” she groans, and thrusts harder.

“You can.”

I reduce my touch to the merest whisper, barely brushing my thumb over the tip of her clit to encourage her to do the work. It’s a good strategy. She raises her hips and grabs my wrist to hold my hand in place while she grinds unashamedly against it. Moments later, she has her reward.

Her body convulses. The ripples of her pleasure roll the length of my fingers, squeezing and clutching as her orgasm washes through her body. Her eyes are closed, her body tense and tight, every nerve ending, every muscle and sinew clenching hard then releasing in a euphoric cascade.

She goes limp. Her eyes are still closed, but her mouth curls in a hint of a smile. Her features are a mask of relaxation, sated wellbeing.

I’m glad. So far, so good.

She lies below me, spread wide, her own juices coating her inner thighs. I withdraw my fingers from her pussy and position my cock at her entrance.

“Molly, look at me.”

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