Page 72 of Sexting My Ex's Dad
“God, you’re beautiful,” I mutter, unable to tear my gaze away from her. She blushes at the compliment, but there’s a hunger in her eyes that matches my own. It’s a look that tells me she wants this just as badly as I do.
“Show me,” she challenges, her eyes never leaving mine. I don’t need to be told twice.
With a surge of strength, I push her against the wall, pinning her there with the weight of my body. My hands trace a path down her sides, memorizing every curve and contour. This close, I can feel the heat radiating from her skin.
The need to possess her, to claim her as my own, consumes me. I’m a man who’s always been in control, but with her, I feel like I’m losing myself – and I couldn’t care less.
“Then let me make you mine,” I whisper, sealing the promise with a searing kiss that leaves us both gasping for air.
A shudder runs through me as I sink to my knees, the cold tile floor pressing into my skin. My eyes never stray from Stella’s, the fierce determination in her gaze only fueling my desire. I lean in, my breath ghosting across her thigh before I press a gentle kiss to her soft skin.
“Your scent is intoxicating.” I slowly work my way up her leg, each kiss bringing me closer to her core. Her body trembles beneath my touch, a testament to the power I hold over her.
“Tell me what you want, Stella,” I command, my fingers dancing along her inner thighs, teasing and tantalizing. I watch her struggle to form words, her chest heaving with each ragged breath.
“Please, Elio,” she moans, her voice laced with need. “I want you... I want you so badly.”
“Is that all?” I ask, my voice low and seductive. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Stella. Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”
Her hazel eyes darken with lust, and she bites her lip, hesitating for a moment before she speaks. “I want you to touch me, Elio. Touch me... everywhere.”
“Everywhere?” I repeat, a wicked grin spreading across my face. “That’s quite a tall order, but I think I can manage.”
I continue kissing my way up her thigh, stopping just short of where she wants - needs - me most, and let my fingers inch closer to her core. She gasps, her hips bucking toward my touch, desperate for contact.
“Patience, baby,” I whisper, flicking my tongue at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “We’ve got all night to explore one another.”
The warmth of her skin radiates against my fingertips as I finally slip one inside her, gently thrusting. She gasps, arching her back and pressing herself closer to me.
“Ah, Elio,” she sighs, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.
Adding a second finger, I stretch her further, while my thumb starts teasing that sensitive spot I know will drive her wild. Her moans grow louder, spurring me on.
“Is this what you wanted?” I ask, my voice low and seductive.
“Yes, yes, just like that,” she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “God, Elio, don’t stop,” Stella begs, her body writhing beneath my touch.
“Never,” I promise, locking eyes with her and watching as wave after wave of ecstasy washes over her face.
I lean in to kiss her. The moment our lips touch, it’s like crashing into a storm — raw and unapologetically passionate. Inside her, my fingers continue their rhythmic dance, thrusting in and out as she moans into the kiss.
Her body shakes with pleasure beneath me, and I feel myself growing harder against her stomach, the evidence of my own arousal undeniable.
“I’m close,” she moans into the kiss.
My chest heaves as I pull away from our heated kiss, my heart pounding in my ears. The taste of Stella lingers on my lips,intoxicating me with every breath. “Not yet,” I whisper, my voice ragged and filled with desire.
I pull away just enough to take my belt off, my pants dropping to my feet. I quickly step out of them before gently grabbing her wrists and binding them together behind her back. I can feel her pulse quicken beneath my fingertips, her body trembling with anticipation.
A blindfold, in the form of my tie, follows, obscuring her vision and leaving her at my mercy. Despite her fierce independence, she has willingly surrendered to me, placing her trust in my hands.
I take a moment to drink in the sight of her: bound and blindfolded, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her breath comes in shallow pants. The delicate curve of her neck exposed, begging for my touch. Her beautiful flushed cheeks.
“You remember your safeword don’t you?” I ask.
“Puzzle.”
“Good girl.”
