Aria Davenport returns for round two with the ever elusive, more sexually experienced Phoenix Prescott. And she's walking on a tight rope. The perfect job, perfect life and perfect relationship lie just beyond the finish line. All she has to do is a...
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Stainless steel doors open to an empty elevator. Jeremih's "Oui" plays overhead. We get in. As soon as the doors close, it's almost as if Phoenix pops his top. He releases all his angst, everything he was holding back at the club. Kissing me, pinning to the wall and lifting my shirt as he fondles my breast. The rush of his hurried hands is exciting. He reaches down into my pants, tapping and rubbing my sweet spot.
"Damn," I whisper in mouth.
"So, you were wet?" He swirls his hand in, out and around my honey pot, my wetness dripping on his fingers. He twirls his middle finger around in my pool of wetness.
"Yeah, I was. Am. So what?" I challenge him, drunk with his lust. "What are you gonna do about it?" I ask breathlessly.
Between kisses, he asks, "What am I gonna do about it. She wants to know what I'm gonna do about it." Without warning he unzips my jeans and pulls them down to my ankles. Then he aggressively turns me around to face the wall. He leans in close and kicks my legs as far apart as my jeans will allow. He gulps as he unzips his jeans and whips his cock out in the elevator. "Don't fucking move," he commands before sliding his hand around the front to my honey pot and dipping in, wetting his entire hand. He steps back.
Hands and face against the wall, I dare not move. Behind me, sticky noises of wet skin on skin follow.
He's jagging off!
That's so fucking hot.
Heat and throbbing between my legs make me want to wrap my legs around something, anything. A pole, his pole . . . "Taking chances in this elevator like this." I pant, holding the wall. The excitement of getting caught makes my heart pound, beating as if it's about to take off like a rocket out my chest.
Phoenix press the "Stop" button on the elevator bringing us to a full stop. The jolt of stopping heightens my fear. He pulls my shirt over my head and throws it to the ground. Then he unhooks my bra and throws it to the ground. He steps close behind me, placing a warm hand on my back, he pushes me to the wall. My nipples kiss the cold steel wall, sending chills, making me even wetter. I try to step away.
He pushes me to the wall. "I said don't move." He takes his dick and sticks it up in me. Unapologetically and without warning.
The shock of his girth going that deep that fast causes me to suck in air. My mouth drops as he commences to fuck me as hard as he dares, wild and without regard to getting caught. My come pools around his cock as my body pleads for more.
"Pretending like you don't like to watch," he says in deep concentration.
I grasp the handrail. Each stroke is a delicious punishment, like I'm getting exactly what I deserve for my bad, deviant behavior.
"I know you like it." His breath heats my back side.
He's staring at my ass.
"You like my ass, huh. So, what if I like watching people fuck right in front of me? What are you gonna do about it?"
