Page 51 of Personal Foul
“Last chance. You don’t want to back out or change your mind?” I ask, holding my breath. We both know her parents know, but it doesn’t mean we have to announce it to everyone else.
Not yet anyway.
“Not at all,” she says, confidently.
“Good,” I murmur. She tilts her head back against the seat, looking over at me, and smiles.
Unable to resist her, I lean over, pressing my lips against her mouth. She releases her grip, tracing her hand over the side of my face, slipping her fingers into my hair.
I can’t hold back from touching her, needing and wanting to feel her soft skin on mine. My hand lazily runs along her leg, and her body relaxes beneath my touch.
It’s like her silent way of giving herself over to me and trusting me to take care of her.
The further my fingers graze over her leg, up her thigh, she opens her legs wider, giving me better access until the tips of my fingers brush over the front of her panties. I picture them as red lace. Something about the visual in my mind unleashes the animal inside of me.
“Sydney,” I moan, pressing my forehead against hers.
“Colson,” she whispers back, full of need.
“Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
She reaches down, slips her dress up higher to give her legs more room to move, opening for me. I want so damn badly to pull her on top of me and have her ride me, but it will have to wait.
Right now, I want to help her relax. I want her to think about nothing but us, and know I’ll always be here to take care of her.
Tracing the line of her pussy lips through the lace of her underwear, her leg starts to shake, and her breath shutters. She adjusts her leg, draping it over mine, giving me better access to watch as I touch her.
Holding my thumb against my mouth, I suck on it before touching her again.
She mutters a quiet, “please,” lifting her hips up toward me, begging me to give her more.
“Take them off,” I command.
Her moves are frantic and chaotic, fumbling to slip her panties down. She toes them off, moving her leg back over my thigh, opening herself up to me.
“Dear God,” I moan. My dick is about ready to bust out of my slacks at the sight of her. Her pussy is glistening with how wet she is for me.
We don’t have much time. As much as I want to draw this out, make it good for her, if I want to make her cum, I have to be quick.
I lightly trace over the edge of her pussy, softly touching her clit before grazing down to push the tip of my finger into her tightness.
The soft touches and the deliberate changes in course leave her guessing, drawing it out for her.
“I wish I was buried inside you right now,” I moan. She reaches her hand out, pulling me in to press a hard kiss against my lips. She pulls back slightly, keeping her forehead pressed against mine.
Her eyes squeeze shut in concentration. Kissing a path from her lips to her ear, I whisper lightly, “Relax, baby. I’m going to make you feel good.”
It’s a tight squeeze, much like my pants, but I’m able to kneel on the floor. She leans back, slipping her dress up for more room, pressing her knees against her chest.
A sheen of sweat dots her forehead, the back of the limo warming up with our heavy pants, while we both desperately seek her release.
With one swipe of my tongue over her clit, her legs twitch in my hands. She doesn’t move otherwise; you can hardly hear her as if she’s holding her breath waiting for me to give her more.
“I could do this all damn day,” I moan, flicking my tongue over her tight bud once again.
When I pull back to tease her again, her fingers grip my hair, urging me back where she wants me. She’s either forgot where we’re going or doesn’t care anymore.
