Just the Girls - Episode 10

I step into the penthouse and the heat hits me first. Her dress is already pooled at her ankles, a black slip of silk she stepped out of like it offended her. She keeps the heels on. I watch the way her body catches the low light—tight waist, full hips, skin gleaming like she just stepped out of a bath. She walks straight to me, bold, nipples hard against the thin lace of her bra. No hello, just fingers at my belt, unbuckling, sliding it free with a soft whisper of leather. She drops to her knees on the marble, takes my cock in her hand, gives it one slow pump, then wraps her lips around the head like she’s tasting something expensive. Her tongue works in lazy circles, wet and hot, while her free hand cups my balls, rolling them, gentle but certain. I feel the pull low in my gut, the promise of what’s coming next. She takes me deeper, cheeks hollowing, a low hum vibrating through the shaft. Saliva trails down her chin and I don’t wipe it away. I like the mess. I reach down, thumb her lower lip, stretch it open wider. She looks up, eyes dark, lashes heavy, and smiles around my cock like she owns it. Then she rises, spins, plants both palms on the glass table, and arches her back. Her ass lifts, offered. I slide two fingers between her legs—slick, swollen, ready. She pushes back onto my hand, rocking once, twice, greedy for the stretch. When I line up and push inside her, she gasps, a sharp sound that echoes off the windows. I grip her hips, drive in, the wet slap of skin filling the room. Every thrust pushes her forward; every time she pushes back harder, meeting me, taking all of it. Her cunt grips tight, pulsing, greedy. Sweat beads at the base of her spine. I drag a palm down her back, feel the tremble under her skin, and lean in close enough to bite the curve of her shoulder. She moans, long and low, and grinds down on me like she needs it deeper. The rhythm turns rough. I reach around, find her clit with two fingers, rub in tight circles while I fuck her harder. She breaks first—back arching, cunt fluttering, a choked cry leaving her throat as she comes. I don’t stop. I fuck her straight through it, chasing my own edge, until the pressure snaps and I bury myself deep, emptying inside her, pulse after pulse, until the only sound left is our breathing and the faint hum of the city far below.