Page 12 of The Girl in the Hockey Jersey

“Fuck me harder,” she breathes.

I snap my hips, driving deeper into her, and she groans. Her whole body sways with the movement.

“Can you touch your clit for me? Show me what you like?”

Another whine, and she shifts her body weight to one arm, shakily reaching between us.

“I’ve got you,” I croon, sliding my hands up her torso, holding her above me.

She’s panting as her fingers make contact.

“Look at me.”

She snaps her gaze to my face.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” I tell her, feeling full of some kind of fire.It’s called tequila. But I drink pretty regularly and I’ve never had filthy thoughts like this unleash themselves out loud. “This is so hot. I want to feel you come on my cock. Feel how hard you made me? I’m primed. I want to come, too. Can you make me come with your hot little pussy?”

She stares at me, and for a split-second I think I’ve lost her, my good girl stranger who doesn’t like men like me, would never do something like this normally, but now she’s riding my dick and she likes it.

Did I push her too far?

But then she nods, her head bobbing in agreement, and she rolls her hips back.

Now she’s fucking me, a tight squeeze as she sinks down, a desperate ache as she lifts up.Never stop fucking me.

Because we’re in this together. She’s the hot vixen who told me we were here to have sex, and we arehavingsome sex.

She’s a blur above me now, her sexy scent swarming my senses, making it hard to think. All I want to do is feel.

“I’m going to come,” she breathes.

I ghost my hands down to her ass, squeezing and pulling at her flesh as our bodies slap together.

“Come with me.”

I groan. I need to feel her slam over that edge first…

She breathes my name once more. Fuck. “Come in my hot little pussy,” she cries out, and then her body spasms, squeezing me like a vise, and I follow her, my hips thundering up to meet her body, my hands clamping us together.

My eyes roll back in my head as my climax rips through me.

She’s shaking on top of me as she slumps down. Both of us are sweaty, the good kind. Hard fucking work, being filthy together like that.

“So good,” I murmur as I kiss the side of her head.

I fucking want to nuzzle the shit out of her.

She lets out a breathless huff, then slides off me, her hand catching the condom, making sure it stays in place on my softening-but-still-thick dick.

“Wow.” She collapses onto her back beside me. “That was fun.”

I roll up and sit on the edge of the bed. Deal with the condom, then stretch. Nothing like a post-nut clarity spike to shake the alcohol buzz off my brain.

“You hungry?” I ask her as I stand up. “We could order room service.”

“It’smyroom,” she points out. “Don’t go hog wild.”

Ah. We’re back to being sassy. I’ll fuck that out of her in round two. “I can give themmycredit card, Jersey Girl.”

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