“I’d have just bought you another pair.” He paused with his slicked fingers up my ass. “What color would you like the next time?”
“Really, Mark?” I shivered as he curled his fingers and teased my prostate. “We’re talking clothes now?”
“Okay.” He pulled his fingers out of me, but before I could begin to feel empty, he’d replaced them with his cock, and I groaned and clamped down.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Cool.” He drove into me repeatedly. His thrusts were fast, and he groaned against my ear as I dragged my nails over his shoulder blades and down past his waist to dig into his ass cheeks. In a surprisingly short space of time his movements became erratic. “S-sorry, babe.”
“Why?”
“N-no time to make this last.”
I couldn’t ask why he was worried about that; I was concentrating on other things. I gripped his hips with my knees, flipped our positions, and rode him as I’d ride Testament.
Except this was so much better.