If

It’s really too bad you didn’t come over today. I spent the past few days preparing for this visit, laying down on the pool table, on my back, on my front, with my luscious, sweet ass in the air. I leaned on it, bent at the waist, pressing my tits against the green felt. Wiggling my bottom, testing the friction of the fabric against my skin. Spreading my legs, finding the right angle so I could balance and still rock against your cock…if you had shown. I would have slammed back against you, moaning, writhing until you held my hips still and scolded me for trying to take charge. Then you could have kissed my back, moved the damp strands of my hair away from my neck so you could clamp your teeth gently all over my skin. I would jump, but my pussy would clamp down on your cock as you kept sliding it into me, slowing down and finally holding back, just the tip inside of me. Holding my hips so I could not move, you would have laughed as I begged you. Please fuck me…please…I don’t like this game. You would tell me how fun you thought it was as you slammed into me once before pulling out again. Oh, I would have moaned. Oh please. Again. My pussy would clasp against your member uncontrollably. I would want you to make me come. Please make me come, leaned up against this pool table in the father’s basement. I would want to scream, I would want to slam back on you, but you would squeeze my hips, my sides, until you leave bruises. Finally, you wouldn’t be able to hold back either, you would fuck me, fuck me until I was gasping, biting my hand to keep my brother from hearing me moan as I come and you go harder and harder…


Or maybe, just to be safe, we could move around the corner into my father’s work room, slide the coarse wooden door shut. I would push you up against it, I have wanted to taste you so bad for these past weeks, I would whisper in your ear as my nimble fingers undo the button, and then the zipper of your pants. I would slide them down your legs, following them to the floor, kneeling on the tile until my knees ached, but my lips found your half-hard cock through your warm cotton boxer-briefs. My mouth would press against it thought the fabric, but only for a moment before I scrambled to push them down along with your jeans. I would moan softly, kissing just the tip, drawing my fingers lightly along your cut lines. You would twitch, so ticklish. I would lick you up and down, finding each vein before blowing air onto my lingering saliva, making you so hard. The cold air has made you so hard, harder even then the time we wrestled for control on your bed, when I ended up with a leg up over your shoulder so you could ravage me with your fingers as my lips slid up and down your member, unable to pull off because if the angle. I would finally pity you, wrap my lips around the tip and slide down, closing my eyes reverently before creating a suction with my lips and pulling back, fluttering my tongue on your underside. You would moan in frustration- usually you are able to slip your fingers inside of me, curve them at just the right angle to make me squirm, rub my clit until I was twitching. But at this angle, my pussy is completely out of your reach.


I fuck you with my mouth, then. I have wanted to taste you so badly, so badly. I grab your ass with one hand, digging my nails into the firm flesh. Oh God, you say, you voice becoming breathier, and I know you’re going to come. I would go faster for a second, the hand not grasping your ass moving up and down on the base of your cock, the base of it moving in gentle circles against your balls. Then I slow, and for a moment, I pull off, looking up into your dark eyes. Bear with me, I’d say. I haven’t done this before. Then I would slowly relax my throat and send you all the way in. You would groan and come right away, shooting down into my throat and I’d swallow and gulp, standing up so you can hug me against your chest.
Yes. Too bad you didn’t come over today.