He was just standing there, examining me. I felt very exposed.
I sent him a photo of the skirt and he responded, “shorter.”
“You should always start playfully. Don’t be too quick at it. You should act like this is all you want in the world.”
“Come up to my bedroom.” It was a request, but it was also a statement, he was sure of my answer.
I groaned out loud to myself, I couldn’t even read his messages without *that* feeling.
I stepped back again, but this time to hop up on the desk and spread my legs so he could move between them, pressing his crotch aggressively against mine as we kissed. I gave in completely to what was about to happen.
That night in his kitchen it was him driving into me, and me receiving him. We were animals, and we were intelligent creatures.
He grabbed his drink off the nightstand and poured a bit into my mouth before kissing me and sucking the taste of whiskey off my tongue.
He continued to rub my neck with one of his hands while the other traveled to my crotch where he felt how wet I was. “Good girl.”