All the way, but first...

Emily stared at the shape in front of her, still caged behind black cotton, her breath catching slightly. Her fingers traced the outline again, slower this time, her palm smoothing down the length of him. It twitched beneath her touch, visibly pulsing. He was so hard it looked painful.

She swallowed, her mouth watering.

There was no denying it now. No teasing herself with second-guessing, no pretending this was just helping or curiosity or kindness. She was going to fuck him. That much was already decided. But she knew his body was on a hair trigger—she could feel it in how tense he was, how his thighs quivered under her hands, how every breath he took shuddered like he was barely holding it together.

He’d never felt anything like this before.

Which meant this first round was going to be fast. Very fast.

And that was fine.

She could work with that.

She wasn’t going to waste it.

If he was going to pop like a bottle of shaken soda the second she wrapped her lips around him, then she’d make sure it was the most mind-melting, knee-buckling, soul-fracturing experience of his life.

And when he recovered?

Then he’d fuck her like he owed her the moon.

Emily hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and peeled them down. Slowly.

What sprang free made her blink again.

Thick. Rock hard. Smooth and flushed at the tip, veins prominent along the shaft, the head already glistening with precum. He was even bigger than she’d guessed—not just long, but full. The kind of cock that could ruin a mouth if it didn’t pace itself.

“Fuck,” she whispered.

He looked down at her, eyes wide with shock and panic and raw need.

“You’re—” she paused, smiled up at him, “—very lucky I’m in the mood to impress.”

She leaned forward, cupping the base in one hand, fingers barely meeting around it, and guided it forward until it rested between her bare breasts. Her nipples, still stiff, brushed his skin as she adjusted, pressing her tits around his cock, trapping him in soft heat.

He made a sound—almost a whine—and gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

Emily spat lightly into her cleavage, let it run slick down his shaft, then began to move. Slow at first. Letting her soft skin slide over him. Her hands pressed her breasts tight around his length, her body rolling gently as she fucked him between them.

His head dropped back instantly.

And the moment she felt his tip pulse between her breasts, her own arousal bloomed sharp and sudden.

The feel of him—thick, impossibly hard, straining between her tits—sent a jolt straight between her legs. She hadn’t expected that. That raw, visceral thrill. Her nipples, already taut from the cold, stiffened even more as they dragged softly over the base of his cock with every stroke. Each pass sent sparks through her chest, down her spine.

She felt her thighs press together, hips shifting unconsciously.

God, she was wet.

She hadn’t even been touched yet, but her whole body was humming, flushed and open. Her breath caught against his skin as her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock, savoring the salt-slick taste of his precum.

She moaned low—couldn’t help it. The vibration made him buck slightly, his breath catching.

And then, the thought hit her. Unbidden, inconvenient.

Jason had never made her feel like this. Not even before the baby. Certainly not after. He wasn’t small, but he wasn’t… this. This weight. This pressure. This length that filled her cleavage so completely it made her ache to feel it somewhere deeper. To ride it. To stretch herself around it until she couldn’t think.

Her nipples throbbed at the image.

Her lips sealed around the head again, suckling, her tongue swirling lazy and wet. Her breasts continued their rhythm, slick now with spit and precum. Her hand found his base and stroked in counter-rhythm, coaxing him, teasing him.

He gasped, his legs jerking slightly under her.

He had no idea how to handle this. His hands clutched the table like he might float away if he let go.

Her pussy clenched hard.

She wasn’t doing this to be nice anymore.

She wanted this. Wanted to ruin him so thoroughly he’d think of her for the rest of his life. She wanted every girl he met after this to suffer the comparison. She wanted to be the woman who gave him his first real taste of pleasure and left him gasping for more.

She licked him deeper, her breasts jiggling slightly as she increased the pace, the sounds of wet suction and sliding skin obscene in the quiet corner of the library.

Her knees were pressed into the cold tile, grounding her as her body burned from within. The friction of her own thighs, slick now with arousal, made her shift in place, **** for pressure.

She was going to get him off fast.

Because the second he was done?

She was climbing on.