Page 85 of Full Tilt
“If you don’t level with me in the next thirty seconds, I’ll never fuck you like this again,” he threatens on a smile that reveals the lie lurking behind his statement.
I smile back and squeeze him again. “You really care what I think about you, don’t you?”
He licks into me, gliding his tongue across the roof of my mouth. I shudder at the sensation, which only kicks up the intensity of our sex.
“Look who’s playing games now,” he teases.
“I think …” I release his balls and trail my pointer finger toward his ass, stopping when Tommy pulls back from my mouth, eyes wide with lust.
I wait for him to give me the safe word, although it doesn’t arrive.
Pressing my slick finger against his tight hole, I edge only a centimeter inside him. It’s enough to shoot blood to his dick, and he grows even harder inside me.
With my other hand, I palm the back of his head and bring his mouth back down to mine.
“I think you like to play with a girl’s ass, but really, your ultimate fantasy is to be dominated.” I slide another centimeter inside, and Tommy moans into my mouth.
“Trouble is,” I continue, “you’ve never found anyone who could work that out.” I slide my finger out and then press back in a little further.
Tommy spreads his knees for me on a guttural groan, and I come all over his dick.
“Finger my ass while I fuck you, Jenna.”
Tommy begins moving faster inside me, and I gently return the favor.
“Has anyone ever done this to you before?” I ask.
He shakes his head, our teeth clashing on a frenzied kiss. “No. Only you. I would only ever let you do this to me.”
Slowly, I move deeper. I’d love to tell him that this is a first for me, too, but … playgirl, I guess. It’s true that I’ve never hadanal sex before Tommy since I never felt the desire to let them take my ass, but I have slept with some kinky guys.
I push further inside him, and it doesn’t take me long to find the walnut-shaped gland I know will blow his mind.
Tommy stiffens above me when I circle his prostate.
I palm his left cheek and look him straight in the eyes when I see, for the very first time, the real Tommy. Pure vulnerability reflects back as he fights with himself—two personalities warring to break free.
“It’s okay; I got you,” I tell him. “Give me the real Tommy and let the other go.”
He presses his forehead into mine, scrunching his eyes tightly. “I swear to God, if you break me, Jenna …”
We both know that he isn’t talking about physical pain.
“I have zero agenda with you.” I attempt to soothe his anxiety. “But I do need you to relax for me.”
Tommy’s shoulders drop an inch.
“More,” I tell him, swiping my thumb under his left eye, like he does so often with me.
He studies my face for a beat and then exhales a long breath that uncoils every muscle in his body.
“Atta boy,” I praise, circling his prostate once more.
Tommy seals his mouth over mine, now framing my face with both hands.
On every thrust of his pelvis and stroke of my finger, he whimpers a different pleasure-filled statement. “Goddammit, Jenna. What the fuck are you doing to me?”
I come again, and Tommy reaches down and hooks my right leg into the crook of his elbow. We aren’t fucking any longer, and we both know it too.
