Head Over Heels

He checks his phone. It’s 17:45, so I chuckle and graze my hand up his thigh one further time.

We just don’t have the time

I turn to walk away and imagine myself sauntering into the living room thinking about him spending the evening frustrated. He has three hours before he walks back through the door and I can have him. Have him in my cunt, in my mouth, hopefully wherever he wanted me to take him. However, a mere five seconds pass before I realise that isn’t how this evening will play out. He grabs my waist. It surprises me, and I instinctively freeze- my arrogant confidence shattered as quickly as it arose.

I’m sure I catch a glimpse of his grin before he turns me to face the wall and he breathes into my ear,

I don’t think so

Luckily my hands are placed in front of me bearing my weight, because I feel everything inside me melt. Weight presses down on the small of my back, where one of his palms encourages me to lower my head and shoulders towards the floor, and raise my hips up against it. My tights are pulled to my ankles and he leaves me there for the handful of seconds he knows he really doesn’t have.

The fuck is quick, and hard. I instinctively lower further to the floor under his hold. As his rhythm quickens further, I place my hands flat on the floor. Yes, my thighs are burning, but I don’t want it to stop. My dress is falling down-or up- my body- I’m not even sure.

Take it off

Fuck. This has quickly gone from quick, easy mindless ten minutes to a skill challenge on the Crystal Maze. I shuffle with my upper body, and try to keep sturdy with my lower legs. Somehow it slips to the floor, and my right hand escapes, followed by my left hand. He is becoming more urgent in both his breathing and his movement. My hips are bruising under his fingers- marks which I hope will last more than the night.

Don’t move

I groan as he steps back, albeit for a split second. I want him inside me, and I feel empty, but the blood is rushing to my head and I feel woozy.

Fuck

I feel his come on my lower back. It tickles, but I’m to keep still. It trickles down my spine before setting at the nape of me neck. His hand runs from my arse, down my back taking the rest of the mess with it, before he grips my neck. His hand moves into my hair, and I patiently wait still as he scrunches my hair between his come covered fingers. My thighs are on fire, and I’m slightly relieved when I hear him pull up his trousers, and walk out of the door with a chuckle.

I turn my head to follow his direction as his head appears around the doorframe.

I told you we have time. Now go and shower, you filthy girl

before closing the door behind him.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

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