Page 43 of Forever Fake

She jerks in my hold, then grows still. I slap her other butt cheek, then smooth the burn away with my rough palm. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t try to get away. Her silence speaks volumes… if I’m reading her correctly.

I spank her more thoroughly, each strike measured, and followed up with kneading her hot, reddening flesh. She squirms beneath my touch.

“I’ve warned you before,” I growl. “Good girls get rewarded and naughty girls get spanked. You’ve been a naughty girl lounging up here where others might see your gorgeous body.This body’s mine. No one else’s. But you don’t seem to understand that yet.”

My hand dips between her thighs, finding the swimsuit material soaked from her wetness. Tentatively, I slip two fingers beneath the fabric. She’s so fucking slippery, so wet and ready. My dick swells, growing hard against her stomach. But I don’t push her further, not yet, not until I know if she’s going to clam up, or worse—spiral.

So far, I haven’t figured out what exactly triggers her into a panic attack.

She rocks her body in my lap, grinding against my erection and chasing my fingers with her cunt. She arches her back and I slide one finger into her tight pussy, then the other. I’ve tasted her—once—which is not nearly enough to satiate my appetite. She moans as I finger-fuck her perfect pink cunt.

Then she surprises me by reaching beneath her and unfastening my trousers. Gin wraps her fingers around my thick cock, matching my rhythm, and I groan.Fuck yes. I need this. My hips jerk, demanding more. She squeezes me tighter and my eyes roll back in my head.

I leave her greedy pussy and smack her ass again. And again. Each of her small gasps drives me wild. When I sink my fingers back into her, she’s dripping wet. She shudders out a moan.

My little magpie likes to be spanked.Good girl. Perfect girl.

When my thumb finds her clit, I barely touch her before she orgasms. Her entire body tenses up, then shakes as she comes on my hand. She’s hardly come down from her high when she adjusts on my lap, taking my cock into her hot, wet mouth.

Fuck me. I groan as she sucks me down, choking herself on my length. Another wave of pleasure rolls through her and her pussy clenches my fingers like a vise.

Fuck. She just came again from sucking on my dick.

It’s enough to send me over the edge. I grunt, shooting ropes of cum down her throat as my hand tangles in her hair.

I pull her up and crush my lips to hers. Plunging my tongue into her mouth, I taste myself, as well as… vodka. Vanilla vodka.Shit. I should have known she was too eager, but… this morning she touched me and she wasn’t drunk. I thought maybe… I obviously thought wrong.

Sitting back, I take her by the arms and put some distance between us. I can’t tell if her eyes are glassy from lust or alcohol. I’m too pissed off to try to make the distinction.

“You’re drunk,” I accuse.

Her expression shutters. “No I’m not.”

“You’ve been drinking. I can taste it. I can smell it too.”

“Just a couple of drinks… earlier.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“So?”

“So. Earlier would have been in the morning.” I eye her. “Are you an alcoholic?”

“Why are you so obsessed with how much and when I drink booze?” She squirms, trying to get off my lap, but I keep her in place. I’m not done with her yet.

“I’ve told you before, I won’t touch you when you’re drunk.” Finally, I let her go.

She stands up, covering her tits with her hands. “I already told you I’m not drunk.”

“And I think you’re a liar,” I snarl.

“Fuck you!” She chokes on a sob as she runs into the house.

Angrily, I tuck my dick away and glower at the swimming pool like it’s the water’s fault that everything just went to shit.

I should go after her. Apologize.

No, I shouldn’t.

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