“Are you going to come out again soon?” he called from the living room. “Because your beer is getting hot.”
I found myself biting my lower lip to keep from shouting back a number of bad responses, ranging from an observation on the general nastiness of light beer to a fairly dirty retort regarding how hot I was getting compared to my beer. Instead, I used the wet rag to cool off my face and neck and returned to the living room.
“How is the game going?” I asked, surprised at how steady I kept my tone of voice as I walked towards him on the couch.
“Awful,” he said. “Florida has never had a strong offense, but they sure are looking worse than usual today.” He glanced up at me as I looked at my beer, which was on the far side of the coffee table. Funny, I didn’t remember leaving it there.
“You know, I actually really hate Florida, anyway. I don’t care if they are in the SEC, I just want them to lose.”
His feet were propped up on the coffee table and he didn’t move them even when I stood pointedly right next to his ankles. I looked at him, and he grinned.
“Don’t let that beer go to waste,” he said, gesturing with his own.
The only way I could reach my beer would be to step over his legs, risking breaking an ankle in my ridiculously high heels - or by bracing myself with one hand on the table and leaning as far over as I could.
I knew what he was trying to get me to do. So, I turned my hips a little until my butt was almost in his direct line of vision, reached out to brace myself with my left hand, and stretched out my right hand to snag my beer.
“Stay there,” he said, sitting up and putting his hands on my thighs. “I need to check on something.”
I abandoned my beer and braced both hands on the table as he lifted my skirt over my hips. He hooked his thumbs in both sides of my panties and gently dragged them down my legs to my ankles. He nudged the plug with his fingers, twitching it just a little, but a little was all it took.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head, focusing everything I had on the sensations he was stirring in me. He leaned in close to my pussy, close enough for me to feel him breathing on it. He kept his left hand on the outside of my thigh to steady me while the fingers of his right hand began tracing a path down my labia.
“A little damp down here,” he observed while his fingers made a second trip to my pussy. He didn’t quite touch my clit, stopping just short, before he went back to my ass and lightly played with the plug there.
His left hand moved up to my pussy, two fingers reaching in as he continued to toy my ass. He chuckled as he began to finger-fuck me, spreading his fingers every time he withdrew them to try to stretch me out. “You can tell it’s been awhile since I’ve been in here. So tight.”
I moaned my agreement as he picked up the pace. I began rocking my hips back to meet his fingers. Then he stopped. He leaned in and licked my clit, just once, before bringing his fingers around to my mouth.
“So tasty, don’t you agree?” he asked as he stroked my lips with his fingers until I opened my mouth. I pulled his fingers into my mouth, sucking my essence off of them.
He pulled his fingers out of my mouth and helped me stand upright. I needed the help since the change of position made my head swim... or maybe that was the alcohol. Either way, he helped me step out of my underwear before leading me to his bedroom.
He unzipped my skirt and pushed it down around my ankles before pulling my shirt and bra over my head. He reached for his own pants, but my hands were already there, unbuttoning and unzipping them. He pulled his tee shirt over his head while I worked his pants and boxers down his legs, finally freeing his cock.
As I stood, he turned me around and pulled my back into him. One hand reached for my breast, pinching and kneading, while the other reached between my legs, cupping my mound and inserting one finger. I could feel his cock in my back and a reached behind me, trying to return the favor. When I had trouble grabbing hold of him, I turned around to face him.