Page 153 of Play Along

I keep her held upright, adding a finger against her clit, adding to the pressure of the pulsing water.

Her chattering teeth are back but this time they’re accompanied by buckling knees and white knuckles as she holds my arms in place.

“How many times did you make yourself come while you were gone?”

“Three,” she pants.

“And you didn’t think to call me? Facetime me? Do you understand how fucking pretty you are when you come, Kennedy?”

“It didn’t last long,” she says, head thrown back, eyes closed. “Every time I pictured your fingers instead of my own, I came.”

I rub languid circles over her clit. “Is this what you were picturing?”

She nods frantically.

“You’re going to have to come three times tonight to make up for those times I didn’t get to see it.”

She nods again, a soft whimper escaping her.

I bring the showerhead closer, making sure the rhythmic pulsing hits exactly where she needs it, and when I drag my thumb down to add to the friction, I feel her entire pussy flutter against me as she comes.

I’m obsessed with this girl, that’s fairly obvious, so it’s probably no surprise that I’m obsessed with the way she comes—with my fingers on her clit and my name on her lips, chanted like a pleading prayer.

She slumps in my arms, her wet hair sticking to my chest.

I always wondered how dark Kennedy Kay Auburn would get when it’s wet.

Wondered what it would look like threaded through my fingers.

Wondered what it would look like draped on my lap.

And soon, I’m going to find out exactly what it looks like sprawled over my pillow as I fuck her.

Replacing the showerhead to its rightful home, I keep a possessive arm around her, careful not to let her fall. I don’t trust her knees at all at this point.

Taking a few steps back, I drag her with me to sit on the ledge in the back of the shower. Enough of the water is still able to reach us, keeping her warm, though I’m fairly certain her orgasm is keeping her plenty hot judging by the temperature of her skin.

“Such a good girl for me,” I whisper against her neck, decorating the slope of her shoulder with kisses.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me?”

I chuckle, remembering that day at the field when I told her she could call me a good boy while she straddled me naked.

“You let me inside of you and I’ll be such a good boy for you, baby.”

To my surprise, Kennedy stands from my lap, turning around, her beautiful naked body on full display. She uses my shoulders for support, setting one knee at a time against the bench to straddle me.

I almost come when she drops onto my lap, her pussy rubbing slow circles against my cock.

“Do that again.”

My head falls back to the glass behind me when she rolls her hips, her arousal coating the tip of my dick.

She slips a hand behind my neck, urging me back up, bringing her mouth to crash down on mine. I focus on her warm lips, her hot tongue, her hips creating tight little circles, building the friction.

“You feel so good,” she cries, her hands falling down to roam against my chest.

“Fuck. I love the way you touch me.”

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