No More Teasing

Mary’s lips glide up your cock again, tongue swirling the head, and your thighs are tensed so hard you feel them shaking. Every time you get close, she slows, pulling back just enough to keep you dangling on the edge. Your body feels trapped in that **** limbo, every nerve begging for release, but she’s in control, playing you like a game.

You groan, breath sharp through your teeth. “Mary… I swear, if you keep this up…”

She pulls off with a wet pop, stroking you lazily, smirk glinting in her eyes. “If I keep this up, you’ll explode in my mouth. And I don’t feel like ending it yet.”

Before you can catch your breath, she rises smoothly to her feet, tugging the swimsuit straps down her shoulders, letting the fabric peel off her torso. The suit falls to the floor, leaving her bare—long, slender legs, the curve of her hips, small round breasts with brown nipples already tight. She stands over you for a beat, fully nude, watching your stunned silence with the pride of someone who knows they’ve completely stolen the room.

Then she leans forward, her voice firm but playful: “Fuck me. Right now.”

Your cock twitches in your fist, and you manage to rasp, “Condom?”

“I’m on the pill,” she replies, kneeling back onto the couch, her skin brushing yours. “It’s fine. Just… fuck me.”

The words shred through whatever hesitation you had left. You grip her hips and guide her, and she turns herself around, straddling you reverse cowgirl. Her ass fills your view as she sinks down slowly, your cock pushing into her tight, wet heat inch by inch. You groan, digging your fingers into her thighs as her body swallows you, every muscle in your core locking up at the way she stretches around you.

She gasps, head thrown back, hands braced against your knees as she starts moving—rolling her hips in circles, then bouncing, skin slapping, her moans growing louder with each motion. The sight of her ass grinding down onto you, the way her back arches, has you gripping her tighter, driving up into her with sharp thrusts.

But she’s not done switching it up. After minutes of relentless grinding, she pulls forward, slipping off you, then drops onto all fours on the couch, glancing back with a wicked grin. “Come on. Don’t stop now.”

You kneel behind her, hands grabbing her hips, and slide in again. This time there’s no slowness—your thrusts slam deep, hard, the sound of skin clapping echoing through the room. She cries out into the cushion, hair spilling forward, ass pressing back greedily to meet each stroke. The tightness of her pussy grips you like a vice, wet and perfect, each thrust making you groan her name.

“Harder,” she begs, and you answer with a brutal rhythm, sweat dripping down your back as you pound into her, watching her body jolt with each hit.

And then, when you’re both gasping, she twists beneath you again, pulling you down into missionary. Her legs wrap tight around your waist, her arms around your shoulders, and for the first time you’re close enough to see her eyes.

Deep brown, wide and shining, staring straight into you as if she’s pulling your soul out through your gaze. Every thrust makes her gasp into your ear, every look into her eyes makes your chest pound harder. You bury yourself in her, pressing deeper, the room spinning around you as if nothing else exists but her.

It builds too fast to hold back. You manage one last growled, “Mary—fuck—” before you yank yourself free, stroking hard as the orgasm rips through you. Thick ropes of cum shoot across her chest, splattering her tits, her collarbone, shining against her flushed skin.

She lies back, panting, flushed red, her hand brushing over the mess you left on her breasts. She smirks, eyes lidded, voice husky. “Guess that towel wasn’t the only thing you couldn’t hold back.”

You collapse beside her, both of you breathing heavy, the air thick with heat and the smell of sex, her laughter low and satisfied.