Amy needs details

You groan as Amy’s slick fingers tighten around your throbbing cock, slowly stroking you from base to tip inside your ruined underwear. The wet, filthy sounds echo softly in the empty locker room. Every stroke spreads your earlier mess around, making her grip glide effortlessly.

“Start talking,” she demands, her breath hot against your ear. Her thumb circles your swollen head, smearing the fresh precum leaking out of you. “What was I doing in this little fantasy of yours, Peralta? Be specific.”

You swallow hard, hips twitching involuntarily into her fist.

“Fuck… okay,” you rasp. “You were in the interrogation room. That tight black pencil skirt you wore last week… the one that hugs your ass perfectly. You bent over the table right in front of me, pretending to reach for a file, but you were teasing me. You kept arching your back, pushing your ass out…”

Amy’s hand speeds up. Her breathing grows heavier.

“Keep going,” she orders, nipping at your jaw.

“You looked back at me over your shoulder,” you continue, voice shaking with pleasure, “and told me to lock the door. Then you said… ‘If you want it, come and take it, Detective.’ So I did. I flipped your skirt up, ripped your panties down your legs, and buried my face in your pussy right there on the table.”

Amy lets out a soft, needy sound. Her grip gets tighter, slicker. You can feel her thighs pressing together as she squeezes them.

“You were so wet,” you groan. “Tasting you while you tried to stay quiet… moaning my name, telling me not to stop. Then you begged me to fuck you. Hard.”

Amy pulls her hand out of your pants suddenly, making you whine at the loss. But before you can complain, she drops to her knees on the tiled floor, yanking your khakis and cum-soaked boxers down in one rough motion. Your cock springs free, hard and glistening, right in front of her face.

Her eyes darken with lust as she looks up at you.

“Like this?” she asks, voice husky. She leans forward and drags her tongue slowly up the underside of your shaft, tasting the mess you made because of her. “Did dream-Amy suck your cock too?”

Before you can answer, she wraps her lips around your head and sinks down, taking you deep into her warm, wet mouth. You moan loudly, one hand flying to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her perfect ponytail.

“Shit, Amy— yes,” you gasp. “You got on your knees just like this… looked up at me with those big brown eyes while you swallowed every inch.”

She hums around your cock, the vibration shooting straight through you. Amy works you with long, filthy strokes of her mouth, her hand pumping the base while her tongue swirls around the head. She doesn’t seem to care that you’re still covered in your earlier orgasm — if anything, it seems to turn her on more.

You can barely think straight.

“Fuck, Santiago… you’re even better than the fantasy,” you moan.

Amy pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva and cum connecting her swollen lips to your cock. She strokes you firmly, looking up at you with a wicked, competitive glint in her eyes.

“Good,” she says, voice rough. “Because this is real. And I’m not letting you cum again until you tell me the rest. What did you do after I sucked you?”

Her mouth sinks back down, even deeper this time, until her nose presses against your stomach.

You’re not sure how much longer you can last.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​