“I want you to tell me you’re coming. I want you to say my name. I want you to come all over my dick,” he says to me, low in my ear. We are on his sticky green couch, naked, in the middle of the day, and I am riding him hard and fast. There’s football on the TV, and my black lacy thong is lying crumpled on the coffee table where it landed when he yanked it down my legs.
I pull him closer to me, shoving my hands in his hair and grinding my clit slow against him. His eyes close and he tips his head back with sheer bliss. I am breathing very hard as I rock myself back and forth, back and forth, waiting for that delicious sensation to rise stronger and stronger inside me. He bends his head to lick my nipples, which are as pink and hard as they’ve ever been.
“You want me to come, baby?” I whisper. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”