Page 175 of Play Along

I’ve never had someone say those words to me before. Not a single person. Never even had someone try to pretend they meant them.

But there’s not a question in my mind that he does. It’s what allows the blinding orgasm to rip through me, writhing into the glass, the fireworks outside looking real inconsequential compared to the ones racking my body.

“Fuck me, you’re pulsing,” he says, still buried deep inside of me.

I ride it out, and once I’m done, he slowly slides out of me.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, fingers threaded into my hair when he gently pulls to turn my face to him.

He kisses me right there, freshly fucked and slumped against the window.

I hardly notice when he turns me around and guides me down to my knees. I’m too focused on the aftershocks of my orgasm, but I sit up on shaky, spent legs, my hooded eyes locked on his glistening cock.

His lips tilt with mischief as he looks down at me. “It’s about time you get on your knees for me. I’ve spent the last three years on mine for you.”

I hold my head high. “I fucking love being on my knees for you.”

“Mmm,” he hums, finger and thumb keeping my chin up and my attention focused on him. “And don’t you look pretty down there.”

He keeps his eyes on me as he uses a single hand to slip his shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room.

“Remind me again what you didn’t like about these tits.” He tests the weight, his thumb circling my peaked nipple.

“They’re small.”

“Hmm.” Crouching for just a moment, he slides two fingers against my sensitive pussy, gathering my cum. “And why do you think that?”

Because I was constantly told so.

But I don’t dare say his name while kneeling in front of the man I’m married to, still riding the post-orgasm high.

“You’re not going to tell me?” he asks as he stands, using my cum to paint my chest. He admires it as if he just created the next artistic masterpiece. “That’s fine. I have no problem proving you wrong. Now push those pretty tits together.”

Once again, I do as he says and when he steps forward, he slips his cock under my breasts, and thrusts upward into the tight channel.

Holy shit.

A bead of precum tempts me to lick it, each and every time his tip slips through my hold.

“Fuck, this is going to be quick.”

I’ve never seen anything like him. So unhinged, so wildly desperate as he watches the way he slides between me.

“Do you want me to turn you around?” he asks through hard-earned breaths. “You’re missing the show.”

With my back to the pier, I look up and say, “This is the only show I want to watch right now.”

“God,” he exhales, palm sliding over my head. “The best girl.”

“Your only girl,” I correct him.

“Damn straight you are.”

Shoulders back and putting myself on full display, I let him fuck me.

It’s hot. It’s so fucking hot to the point where I don’t see how it’s possible for me to ever be insecure about my tits again. Anytime I question myself, I’ll remember the way his cock throbbed against them, the way he gritted his teeth just before he came. The way he moaned my name as hot white ropes decorated my neck and chin.

His jerky thrusts still, his cock twitching as he comes. And the sound he makes, God I’ll never forget that deep, guttural groan.

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