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Switch Hitter

Page 19

When she pouts, turning her head and presenting me with the pale length of her neck, I lean in, sucking. “You weren’t even going to tell me, were you?”

“No.”

“That’s really naughty of you.”

“It is.” She nods. “So naughty.”

“You probably don’t deserve this.” I let the head of my cock creep in the smallest fraction.

“But you do.” Amelia’s face is flushed, hips beginning a slow roll, arms above her head. She looks ready to pass out.

“I do, don’t I?”

“Yes,” she hisses, panting. “God you feel good. Ohhhh shit…”

So fucking good, in and out.

In and out.

Just the tip, just the motherfucking tip—not even an inch—is ecstasy.

When she moans—so loud my roommates in the other room undoubtedly heard—I press a finger to her lips. “Shhh.”

Her tongue darts out and flicks my finger. No sound comes out of her lips when she mouths, “Fuck. Me.”

We both do a lot of pleading, panting, and praying to Jesus, God, and everyone else while I’m balls deep inside her, rocking back and forth, muscles clenched.

It’s gasping, desperate, breathless fucking.

My hands slide beneath her ass when I come, unloading inside, nose buried in the crook of her neck.

Mi cielo.

My heaven.

The End

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