Page 53 of Beautifully Ruined
My eyes drop to her pussy.
I fucking love the red puffiness of arousal and the dampness on her inner thighs, her lips.
Running my fingers through her folds, I spread that heated wetness
Her moan soft is music in the air.
I want to push into her, finger her to orgasm just because I can, but she likes the slow burn, the build and the denial, and so I hold my hand on the side, thumb in the air, toward her clit, andwithout raising my eyes, I lower my hand just enough to bring an edge of awkwardness to it. To make her work, to spread more, to feel the erotic burn of resentment.
“Rock yourself on my hand. I want to see if you can come.”
“But—”
“Did I say you could speak?” I raise my eyes a moment, and she shakes her head. “Good girl.”
She lowers down, some of her juices dripping onto the edge of my hand as I make her rock. Back and forth, a slow slide that bows into a sawing motion as she tries to get my thumb.
I hold it at perfect clit-stroking height. And all I do is watch, letting her rock on me, saw on me, slide. And every time she comes close to her prize, I move back, just out of reach.
Her breath is jagged. Hands by her legs tight. Her thighs start to shake. But she’s wetter with each slide, deep now, trying everything she can to get me.
And it’s not just hard on her. I’m so fucking aroused.
She smells like flowers, arousal. A garden tryst at night. She’s hot and wet on my hand. Impossibly soft.
When her moan turns to a wordless plea, I give in. A little.
I move, pushing my thumb light against her clit.
She tries to rub off on me, she humps my hand, my thumb, and I move, subtle. Deliberate. Keeping my thumb from hitting that one spot for more than a few seconds.
Then I hold it, and she starts rising and falling, her moan hot in the air, her clit hard, and her movements are frenzied, needful, and she’s close.
Her hand flutters in the air like she wants to grab at me but stops herself, and she’s getting closer, closer?—
“On. Your. Knees.” I take my hand away. Unzip and push my jeans and underwear down, because I want this messy.
“Blow me. No hands, Vi.”
“Ye—”
“No talking.”
She sinks down, and I don’t miss the flash of resentment that’s mixed with her gluttonous need.
I circle my cock with my hand and when her mouth closes over me, I almost cum.
She’s hot and wet and sucking as she goes.
I put my hand on her head and push her down.
Because I don’t want her skill or a sweet and slow working over. I want fast. I want to use her, to give her what she wants. To get what I need. And right now, I need to be down her fucking throat, cumming.
She coughs, splutters. She gags, and it’s all fucking phenomenal.
I take hold of her head in both hands and use her. Moving her up and down, slamming her on my cock, and when I’m all the way down her throat, I keep her there, short, sharp moves that don’t let her go anywhere.
Barely let her breathe.
