Page 43 of Don't Bang a Bandmate

“Mm-hmm!”

He steals a hard kiss, his dirty mouth sucking on my bottom lip. “Then, you’ll love this.”

He stands upward, dragging his hand down my body to rest his thumb against my clit and?—

I nearly scream.

“Shh.”Bronson chuckles as he teases me, the pad of his thumb rolling along the bud. “You look so fucking good right now.”

I smile. I can’t help it.

He makes me feelso good.

“You like that?” he says. “Tell me you like it.”

“I like it,” I say, the words disjointed, my entire body twitching with tension.

“Should I stop?”

“No!”

Another cruel laugh and he pushes harder against my clit. The partnership of his rolling thumb and thrusting cock act as a wonderful drug to my system, filling me with waves of aching pleasure that dance along every nerve.

I slap a hand over my mouth, feeling another scream coming.

“No.” Bronson uses his free hand to pull mine back. “Don’t cover your mouth. Those moans are mine.”

A spark ignites, and I come with an aching quiver that spreads from my sex all the way to my fingers and toes. I don’t cover my mouth, allowing for my sounds of pleasing torment to fill the air around us as Bronson’s seemingly unending stamina continues.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

As the last wave of my orgasm passes, Bronson pulls out with a deep grunt. He strokes his cock, the tip nearly reaching my navel, and I watch as he comes, the sight sending a pleasing shiver down my spine.

And then, silence.

Bronson steps back from the table, catching his breath. He sits down on the bench across the aisle as I sit up, allowing formy now aching legs to rest. We stay this way for several minutes; his cock slick with me, my stomach covered in him.

We sit and breathe.

Naked and quiet.

Surprisingly, he breaks the silence first.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I laugh for far too long, my entire body still numb, so tired and spent. Bronson laughs, too, thankfully finding the same humor in the moment as I do.

“You’ve asked me that a lot lately,” I say.

He shrugs. “You’re my friend.”

“And you’re my friend. Though... I rarely let my friends do what we just did.”

I nearly stand up, then stop myself. Before I can ask for a towel or something, Bronson scoops his shirt off the floor and tosses it at me.

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