I turn onto my side and slide my hand up her tank top. I spread my fingers across the expanse of soft skin, I tug at the half-cups of her bra, I tweak those nipples until she says, “Fuck you, Sawyer, you’re a pussy-tease.”
Yes.I knew she’d be like this the first night we fucked, even though I don’t think she said a word while I was inside her. Still, somehow I knew she would be rude and dirty and excellent in exactly this way.
So obligingly, I slide my hand into her pants, part her lips, with their soft curls, slick her wetness all over her, but especially around her clit, circling.
“You gotta tell me, baby,” I say. “I’ll give you choices, but you gotta tell me.”
She whimpers.
I make the smallest circles I can, teasing the innermost bud.
“Mmm-hmm,” she hums.
I widen the circle a little, letting the hood and inner lips cover her so it’s not so intense.
“Yes!” she cries.
My hand slides lower on a sweet slick of her wetness, my fingers finding her wet heat, probing, entering, thrusting.
“God, Sawyer, yes.”
“Which?”
“All—of—the—above—”
“I should have known.”
I stop for just long enough to push her shirt up and her bra down, giving me access to her breasts, to her beaded nipples; I take one in my mouth and send my hand back down her pants. I fuck her with my fingers until she’s fucking back, and then, with my thumb, I make big gentle circles, spiraling in tighter and tighter until all I have to do is tap her bare clit—
And then I get what I’ve been working for, a low, muddy murmur of: “Sawyer please, Sawyer, yes, please, oh my God, oh my God, just like that, Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer, SawYER!”