Page 27 of Mountain Daddy
He curses.
A second finger joins the first.
I cry. Or scream.
And then I’m falling.
Literally falling.
And I don’t even tense.
My back hits the mattress, and Luther lands on top of me.
His arm is still under me. His fingers are still buried in my pussy. And his cock is still pressed against me, the pressure enough for another jolt of pleasure to rock through me.
“God damn,” he grits out, then his mouth is on mine again.
He drags his fingers out of me and around my hip, leaving a damp trail on my skin.
I whimper at the loss.
He swallows the sound.
Then he’s gone.
His weight leaving me completely.
My eyes snap open, and I see him kneeling between my thighs.
“Hips up.” He grips the waistband of my underwear.
Following his command is harder than it should be because I still feel shaky, but I manage.
He drags the material down my legs, and his nostrils flare.
Luther shifts backward, climbing off the bed as he goes.
He drops my panties to the floor andslowlypushes his boxer briefs down. “Take your tits out. I want to suck on them while I’m fucking you.”
If I wasn’t so focused on his striptease, I’d let my eyes roll back at his words.
My bra is soft. Just enough material to keep the girls in place. And I don’t feel like struggling to unhook the band while lying inbed. So, I reach up and push the straps off my shoulders, then pull my arms free.
The material is still covering my breasts.
And his boxer briefs are still covering his cock.
“I’ll show you when you show me,” I pant.
I watch his tongue push against the inside of his cheek.
Then he slides his hand down and grips his cock.
He strokes it.
The material can’t accommodate him.
It’s straining.
