Page 215 of Filthy Beautiful
She sighed and her arms went around me. I pressed into her body, pushing her up against the wall. My mouth found hers and we started kissing, groping. Her hands went to my dick, and mine were up her shirt, squeezing her tits through her wet bra.
I peeled her wet T-shirt up over her head and dropped it on the floor. She started slowly jacking me off… and I’d never felt anything as good as her hands on me.
Well… her pussy.
I started working on her jeans as we kissed, but trying to get tight, soaked denim down over those sexy hips was tough. They were plastered to her.
“This was… poorly… thought-out,” I told her between kisses, and she giggled.
I had her jeans peeled down just enough to work my hand inside and start rubbing her clit. She gasped as my fingers slid deeper and started stroking her in big, sloppy circles. She was all slippery and warm, and she groaned into my mouth.
Then she spun around, turning her back to me, wiggling her jeans down over her ass. They got stuck on her thighs, and she thrust her ass toward me, bracing herself on the wall. “Do it,” she said.
So I shoved into her.
“I’ll pull out,” I told her, kissing her neck. I wanted to assure her she could trust me. But she was already moving her hips, fucking me.
I held her carefully, so she wouldn’t slip, and I fucked her hard and fast. I slipped myself a couple times, but we managed to keep going. I tried to get the angle just right, and I knew I had it when she started quivering, her breaths coming in short, hard bursts and moans.
“Xander… yeah…” she gasped, as I reached around and started rubbing her clit. “I’m gonna…”
And then she came. Her pussy squeezed me tight and her back arched, and she cried out my name.
It was the best fucking thing I’d ever had.
This.Her.
I was not fucking letting this go.
I tried to make it last for her as I fucked her, but then I had to pull out. I exploded on her ass, stroking myself off as I came. I tried to watch myself coming on her, because Christ that was hot, but then I had to shut my eyes for a sec. Could’ve collapsed, easily. But I stayed on my feet, just barely.
“Oh my God, I need to lie down,” she panted.
“Christ, I think I just blacked out.”
She giggled. “You would’ve fallen over.”
“Almost did.”
I rinsed off her back with the shower. Then I wrapped my arms around her waist from behind and held her as my heart beat against her. “There’s no one else,” I told her, wanting to reassure her, holding her close. “I don’t want anyone else.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
I squeezed her tight and kissed her neck.
“Fuck,” she complained. “How am I gonna get these jeans off?”
We looked at each other, and I chuckled at the utter fucking dismay on her face.
“Xan, wet clothes feel gross.”
“You didn’t mind a minute ago.”
“That’s when we were doing the sexy things. Help me.”
“Is this like a weakness of yours?” I knelt down in front of her and worked her jeans down. “Because you’re pouting pretty hard.”
“It’s a pet peeve, like nails on a chalk board. You’re lucky I don’t have socks on. You want to see pouting? Wet socks are the worst.”
