Page 77 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

This. Him. This is letting go and finding everything all at the same time.

But the tension in my shoulders and body tells me he’s right. I’m still holding back, but I don’t know why. Force of habit. The inability to truly let go of all the things that have weighed me down. My fear of rejection or exposure. The anxiety over potentially losing our friendship if we ever gave in to our attraction coming back. Any or all of it.

He pulls out his dick, until just the head rests inside me, leaving me trembling and clenching at it desperately. “Tell me, Rach. Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from those sweet lips before I fuck them, too.”

I try to form words. Stringing together letters shouldn’t be so hard. But lust fogs my brain, making it impossible to think about anything but getting him back inside me. Right. Now. I open my mouth to tell Flynn what I want, what I need him to do, but all that comes out is a frustrated groan.

Twisting underneath him, struggling slightly against his hold, I finally manage to sputter something out. “Oh, God. P-please, Flynn. Please.”

He smacks my ass again, harder this time, and the sound reverberates through the room as the sting floods across my sensitive skin. “That’s not gonna cut it, babe. I want you to tell me, word for word, what you want me to do to you.”

A minuscule roll of his hips inches him a tiny bit deeper into me. I clench around it, desperate for more, frantic to have him inside me again, filling all those empty spaces I didn’t even know were there. Letting me feel whole for the first time in my life.

This is torture, the way he’s toying with me. Like he’s the hunter and I’m the prey stuck in a trap, and he’s making me beg for my life.

I shake my head, but he only tightens his hand on my throat.

“I-I-”—I suck in a breath against his hold on my neck—“I don’t think I can.”

I love the dirty talking. It’s the ultimate aphrodisiac. Listening to him on that screen was mind-bending, and now having him say it here, whispering it in my ear while he works me over, it’s another level. But me doing it is something else. Something I’m definitely not ready for. Something I’m not even sure is possible.

He brushes his thumb across my throat slowly. Back and forth. Back and forth. Almost reverently. But Flynn doesn’t move, his cock resting barely inside me. “Tell me all the things you dreamed of HRD4U doing. What you thought about when you touched this magnificent cunt and made yourself come.”

God, there were so many.

But maybe that’s the key. I’m getting hung up on this being Flynn—my best friend who I knelt next to at church. Who treats his mother like a fucking queen. Who holds doors open for people and always offers to help anyone in need. He needs to be HRD4U right now. Still Flynn. Just also HRD4U, the man on the screen willing to say and do anything and everything I’ve ever dreamt about.

He molds his chest against my back, so I can feel his heart thundering against his ribcage, but he doesn’t give me what I really need. His hips stay still, frozen until I figure out a way to answer him.

I whimper, the words I want to say sitting on the tip of my tongue, waiting to fall off. “I-I want you to fuck me.” It comes out in a rush. One sentence so fast, it’s a garbled mess, but I know he hears it because his grip tightens, and he inches slightly farther inside me. “I want you to do it hard and fast and leave me a quivering mess.”

“That’s it, babe.” He glides back in to the hilt, rocking my body forward against his firm grip around my waist and throat, and I clench around him with relief. “You want me to pound you so good you can’t walk tomorrow, don’t you?”

“God, yes.”

His lips find that spot right behind my ear, and he sucks hard in rhythm with his thrusting hips. “You’re going to feel every fucking inch of my cock between your legs for the next damn week when you try to move.”

“Yes! Yes!” I dig my nails into the leather of the chaise, grasping for anything to keep me from flying away.

His thrusts get harder. Faster. More demanding. More frantic.

If his arm wasn’t wrapped around me, I don’t know that I could stay up on my hands and knees anymore. The pound of flesh against flesh and slap of skin on skin echoes in the room, creating a goddamn symphony of our connection.

“God, Rach, you’re so fucking perfect.” His hand snakes down my stomach to where our bodies connect, and he finds my clit. “Now, come for me. I want to feel you clench around my cock and release everything you’ve been holding onto so tightly. Come on me, Rach.”

I don’t need the added contact of his fingers there because the heat of an impending orgasm is already spreading through my limbs. But as soon as his fingertips touch it and swirl, the explosion of release blasts through me like an atom bomb. I jerk forward, but Flynn holds me in place, hammering into me harder, brutally staking a claim on my body, demanding I take it and give him everything back in return.

* * *

FLYNN

Her tight, wet pussy clenches around my dick as she writhes under me, her head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut through her orgasm.

It’s the single most beautiful thing I’ve seen in my entire life.

The only thing I’ve wanted since the moment she climbed out of her car next door over five years ago.

And now it’s mine.

---