Page 70 of Champagne Fizz

I feel brave and wild and not like myself. Or maybe a better, new self is emerging. I’m not the kind of person who would ever say crass words about my lady parts, but right now all I want to scream ismy pussy is on fire. My pussy is wet and throbbing and delicious.

My tongue dives between Simon’s teeth, devouring the taste of him. A new wick of heat broils between my thighs, but it’s not as immediate. I’m still recovering from that—

hot

feverish

glorious

barbaric

naughty

orgasm.

I want Simon’s hands on my body. I want my clothes off. I want his mouth and his—

Cock.

I can say cock. Or, at least I can think it.

I want his cock.

I want all of him.

Maybe we can do this right now. I feel primed and ready. All of my senses are on high alert, and I know he’s ready too. Simon smells like sweat and hair oil and that salty taste of skin, and the temple between my legs is on fire because it was rubbing against him.

He’s hard.

Banana-my-rama he’s ready for me to take him. Gosh it sounds so dirty and hot to think it, but—

I want Simon to fuck my pussy.

I want Simon to fuck my pussy—so hard.

I moan obscenely against his mouth.

“Simon,” I pant. “Simon, I’m so—”

He kisses my eyelids, and it’s too sweet.

“Simon,” I moan. “Maybe we don’t have to work up to this.”

I feel possessed.

There’s a demon between my legs prowling with lust.

“Maybe we could actually—”

I put his hands on my hips and I close my eyes at the new sensation of his big hands cupping my sides. I mew against his lips and press his hands harder against my waist. I want him gripping me and grinding me against his cock. I want to let go and unravel. I want him to tear all the pleasure out of me again.

Over and over until I can’t breathe.

“Touch me,” I plead, trying to push his hands up toward my tits. “Simon—”

“Woah,” he says, pulling his mouth from me. “Slow down.”

“I don’t want to slow down, Simon,” I pant. “I just—I’m in control, right? I want you right now.”

---