The Love Algorithm - Vol. III

【50】Drunken Paradise

"You're so fucking hot," he grunted in my ear.

"And you're so hard already..."

Nested between each swell of my bottom, I could feel the strain of his growing erection. It felt amazing, and it ignited a keen desire to take it further, to finally cross that bridge. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, the tequila giving me the courage I'd been lacking until now, but I didn't dwell on it and voiced my desires.

"I want you to fuck me in the ass," I confessed, pressing myself harder against him, dying to know what it was like to have his shaft deeply planted into that part of me.

He had an arm around me, and its hold on me tightened as he groaned a curse. "Fuck, Andrea... You'll be my fucking death."

"Why? Don't you want to try my ass, baby?"

"You know how much I fucking do. But right now's not a good time."

"Why?" I whimpered, rolling my hips in a way that made him hiss.

"We're too drunk for this. I might hurt you, and none of us would even realize."

"But I like a little bit of pain." I tilted my head up, enough so I could gently nibble on his ear's lobe. We'd been using plugs lately, since we were having sex again, and I was back up to the Hemsworth size – the largest one we owned. For some reason, I'd been delaying taking it further, but tonight I wanted to. I longed to feel him there, thrusting in and out of me.

His arm kept its hold on me, locked around my waist, and his free hand traveled to my thigh, where it grazed up the tender skin, moving toward my needy flesh. He easily found his way to my clit, still precise despite all the Tequila Sunrises, and I moaned his name while my knees spread further, my hips still sensually undulating against him.

"You're not supposed to touch the dancers in this fine establishment, sir..."

"Are you sure you want me to remove my hand?" he asked as three of his fingers thrust their way inside of my drenched slit, making me release a shaky cry. "If you're still up for it tomorrow, I'll fuck you in the ass, Andrea. But for tonight, this will have to do. Will this be enough for you, freckles? Me fucking your cunt?"

"Aah... Maybe..."

He swallowed the rest of my sighs of pleasure with his mouth, and I kept writhing on his lap in rhythm with the music, while his fingers never stopped fucking me. Pony changed into Woman, by Emmit Fenn, and this one made me crave to dance, even though it didn't have much of an upbeat. We were having a girls' night, after all, and it wouldn't be complete until we'd spent some time on the dance floor.

Ripping myself away from him took every ounce of strength I possessed, but I eventually managed, dislodging his hand form between my legs. Once I was on my feet, I extended him an inviting hand. He took it, and I dragged him to the other end of the couch, where we'd have more room for this. As if he knew exactly what I wanted, he wrapped his arms around my waist as I hooked mine around his neck.

The way we danced was slow, but utterly dirty and filthy. Maybe my inebriated state was making it feel much more lascivious than it really was, but as we swayed together, with his erection pressed against my hip, his hands slipped under the dress to cup my ass, and me rubbing myself against his thigh shoved between my legs, it felt like foreplay more than it did dancing.

The moment was charged with sensual desires, and we both basked in it. For someone who didn't particularly enjoy dancing, he was doing amazingly well. But it made sense in a way. We were fucking with our clothes on more than we were dancing. Had we been out in some club, they surely would have thrown us out for indecent exposure.