She nods with a smirk. “You can do anything you want to me, Oz.”
I grunt at the image that puts in my head. She’s going to be the death of me.
I walk toward her and wrap my arms around her. One hand goes to the nape of her neck, holding on to her hair, and I pull her head backwards to where she has to look at me. I stand just like that and stare into her eyes for what seems like the longest time. I know exactly what is going to happen when our lips do finally meet again. Slowly I lean down and touch my lips to hers. She moans deep in her throat, and I swallow it. It's a frenzied battle as our lips and tongues meet.
I should stop. I know that I should. But I do the opposite. I bend down and put my arm behind her legs and lift her up. I carry her into the living room and sit with her in my lap on the couch. The feel of her breasts pressed against my chest makes my cock even harder in my jeans. I know she can feel it pressing it against her ass by the way she wiggles, pressing herself into me. The kiss goes deeper on every level until I have to pull away before I lose all sense of responsibility. She's been drinking, and I'm on edge, and that's not a good mix.
But as soon as I start to pull away, her hands tighten on me, and she groans. “No please don't stop.”
I shake my head. “Ginger, baby, you've been drinking.”
She says, “Please, Ozzie, please don't stop. It hurts.” She grabs my hands and puts it between her legs. “Please make it stop.”
Her skirt is wedged high on her hips, and she puts my hand right onto her hot core.
I move my hand, and she tries to stop me. “Please don’t stop,” she begs.
I kiss her lips. “I’m not.”
She releases my hand, and I slide my hand between her thighs as her legs fall open wide. I press one finger to the sodden middle of her panties. They’re soaked, and my chest bows, knowing that she’s wet like this for me. She wants me, and there’s nothing I want more than to pleasure her.
I use my finger to edge my hand into the side of her panties, and she groans as I slide through her wet, swollen lips. Her hips buck, and I can’t stop the smile that has formed on my face. “You like that?”
She moans and bucks her hips again. I just touched her and already she’s close. I can feel it, but the way her eyes are huge and almost shocked in her face, I don’t know if she knows it. “What is it, baby? What’s wrong?”
I ask her the question, but I don’t stop tormenting her clit. It’s swollen and needy, so I whirl my fingers around it as her hands grip on to me tighter. “Oh my God,” she moans.
I lean my face close to her. She’s a flirt, I’ve found that out. And men seem to fall over her, but this is new for her. I know it is. “Come for me, baby. I need you to come on my hand.”
She shakes her head side to side, almost like she’s unsure about it all. “I got you, Ginger,” I tell her, looking straight into her eyes.
She’s staring back at me, and I watch as the orgasm starts to rage through her body. She tenses up, her eyes are huge in her face, and a look of utter, absolute ecstasy takes over her face. I don’t stop until she’s done riding my hand and her body is lax against mine. My cock is still hard, but there’s no way I’m going to make this about me. Now when she’s been drinking.
I pull my hand from between her legs, and I know I’m a dirty bastard, but there’s no way I’m wasting the taste of her cream. I bring my fingers to my lips and suck them dry. Her forehead is creased, and I can tell she’s debating if she should be grossed out or turned on. But the way her eyes dilate, I know it’s the latter.
“Has anyone touched you there before?” I ask her.
She starts to pull at her skirt and sit up, but I stop her. “No don’t get upset. I just want to know. Has there ever been another man between your legs?”
My voice doesn’t even sound like my own. It’s deep and demanding. I should leave her alone about it, but I can’t. I need to know.
She shakes her head, but that still isn’t good enough.
“Say it. I need to hear you say it.”
“You’re the only one. I’ve never been with anyone before. Not like that.”