Page 23 of CTRL+ME
There’s no way I’m coming from just nipple play…
Fuck.
She’s somehow remembered the vibrating dildo, and with her other hand below her, she pushes it against my core
“Yes! I'm coming!”
Instead of working me until there’s nothing left of this orgasm, she’s off of me and undoing thestrap-on, sliding it down my legs, and immediately onto her body. I watch in amazement. The speed she gets it in place, and before I know it, she’s lining up and thrusting into me with the same cum-soaked cock that was just inside her.
It’s erotic.
EIGHTEEN
DOUBLE FUCKED
TATUM
I sink into her hard and fast, claiming her body from the inside out as best as I can. My attention stays on her features as they contour and convert from pleasure to ecstasy. I cut off her orgasm right as it starts cresting deep inside of her, and by the look on her face, I know it was the right choice. I can’t tear my eyes away from where Lylah’s lips form a tight ‘O’ as her body writhes beneath me.
One thing’s for sure, two things for certain—I’m thankful that I have endurance training because sex with this girl is a marathon.
I don’t know how I’ll ever be satisfied of her. Not only watching her come undone for me overand over, but the sheer bliss that I feel when we’re together. I’m ruthlessly, painfully addicted to Lylah and every breath she takes.
I continue with long strokes, pushing the silicone into her with painfully slow strides, making sure I drag it up and over her G-spot with each one. As the roles are now reversed and the vibrating base overstimulates my beyond well-worked clit. The only way to describe this feeling is being drunk on her.
My chest practically aches with how badly I wish I was feeling the inside of her, not this piece of silicone, yet that sparks an idea. This time on the downstroke, I pull the purple toy completely out of my yearning girl to straddle her chest.
Once seated, I let the faux cock land on her face. The purple shines with a mixture of both of our arousal, and like the good girl who hardly needs to be told, she opens her mouth and rests her tongue against her bottom teeth. She moans and whimpers as I slide it against the soft pad of her tongue.
“Suck, Lylah. Take my cock into your throat.” I push the toy past her lips and into her mouth where she suctions tight. Her green eyes are meadows of sultry sunny days, looking up at me with nothingbut willingness and passion. As she sucks hard, I push the toy farther, until her eyes roll back, and she gags against it.
“Fuck,” I pant, watching a single tear leak down her cheek. “I could get used to fucking your pretty little throat like this.”
Her whine slithers up my spine and wraps around my throat, but I can’t hold back anymore. Lylah gasps when I pull out of her mouth and reposition at her entrance. Gathering saliva on my fingers, I let her watch the spit trail that hangs between my mouth and her pussy, where I eagerly spread it against her, wetting her with my drool. Then, I push into her for what may be the last time tonight. Her body pulses beneath me, writhing with every touch I offer her. She’s desperate, her plump hips fighting against mine for the perfect leverage and fucking herself with the toy as much as I fuck her with it, but somehow, it’s still not enough. I rest my body on top of hers, our tits mashing together when I find purchase at her throat.
“You’ve been such a good girl tonight, Bubbles. How am I ever going to stop this? Fucking my nanny...” I tsk.
“Then don’t,” she cries out for me.
“Don’t stop fucking my nanny? C'mon, baby,tell me what you want.” My strokes quicken, and I can’t resist sucking at her pulse point.
“Keep me, never stop, I want everything, all of this,”
“All of this cock, baby? It’s already yours, bubbles.”
“All of you.”
“Come for me, break for me, and you can have me. Whatever you want, baby, it’s yours.” I’m not sure if I’m assuring her or myself, but neither of us holds back at my command. Falling into Lylah has been easy. Whatever we are, whatever we’re doing, it’s exactly right.
Something horrid pulls me from my sleep, an alarm or something blaring. I wipe my eyes and slowly register the weight on top of me. Lylah’s entire side rests on me, with one leg thrown over mine and an arm wrapped around my body. I want to snuggle back into the bliss that is this weekend, but then the noise starts again. It slowly registers that the sound is my phone. It’s late, Iknow that, and only one person’s call would penetrate my do-not-disturb settings. I swiftly pull myself out from beneath Lylah to grasp for my phone on the floor, my mom’s name bright on the screen. Without thinking, I swipe to answer the call.
“Tatum, her fever is one hundred and four. We can’t get it down.” The remaining bubble of delusion I’ve been living in dissipates with those words. I’ve been lucky—very lucky—that not an ounce of sickness has touched my girl yet, but of course now would be the time.
“Get her to the emergency room. I’ll be there as soon as I can, and have them call me if they need any permissions.” We hang up the phone quickly, and I begin to scrounge for suitable clothes to sit in the hospital all night. I’m out the door in under ten minutes.
The drive is dark and quiet, the only sounds being the engine and my fingers tapping against the wheel anxiously. I reach for my phone in my purse to check for any missed calls, but my hands don’t find it.
Fuck. I left my phone.
