American Queen

Fuck if it doesn't make me wetter than ever.

“He’s taking off my panties now,” I say, the soft scrape of the lace on my thighs almost more than I can bear. And then Embry helps me step free of them, afterwards putting one warm hand on each thigh and parting my legs so that I stand in a wider stance.

Embry groans at the sight of my exposed pussy.

“He’s looking at me again. He can see that I’m all the way bare. And I’m so wet, Ash. Do you remember the time I rode your thigh in front of him?”

“God, yes,” Ash says, and I think I can hear the rustle of fabric, as if he were parting the fly of his tuxedo pants to palm his cock.

“I’m wet like that. Oh. Oh God.”

“Tell me, princess.”

“He…” I swallow, my fingers finding Embry’s hair once more. “He put his finger inside me. And another one. They’re sliding in so easy, Ash, I’m so wet, but I’m swollen and it’s so tight.”

Ash rumbles in response, and I hear more movement, the sound of skin moving over skin. The mental vision of Ash rubbing himself to my narration of being finger-fucked by his best friend makes the flames at my core lick higher and higher.

Embry curls his fingers, pressing against the sensitive nerve endings clustered near the front and I moan. He leans forward and sucks my clit into his mouth again, this time without the barrier of the lace, and the hot, wet contact is almost shocking in its intensity.

“Sling your leg over his shoulder,” Ash tells me. “And push his face against your cunt. Grind into his mouth.”

I do as he commands, and the moment I begin fucking myself against Embry’s mouth, his control shears away. One hand grips my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh, while the other hand continues to fuck me mercilessly. And his mouth…

“It’s like he’s starving,” I breathe into the phone, watching his head move below my skirts. “Like he’s trying to eat me alive. His fingers are so deep in me, so fucking deep. I can feel them in my belly.”

“God, I wish I were there,” Ash growl. “I’d watch you come while he shoved his fingers in you. I’d make him kiss you while his mouth still tasted like your cunt. And then I’d make you kiss me.”

Ash’s words are like curtains catching fire, sending the clenching burn of my cunt streaking upwards towards my chest. I'm going to orgasm, I know it, but I won't be able to stand, my knees are about to buckle as it is, and as if Embry can sense this, I'm all of a sudden being tugged down by my waist. Tugged down to the floor as he lies back, and then his fingers are digging into my hips, planting my pussy firmly over his mouth. I'm straddling him, riding his face, and the minute his tongue slides into my hole, I know it'll be mere moments before I lose it.

“Embry pulled me down to the floor,” I manage to say into the phone. “I’m riding his face, my knees are on either side of his head. His hands are groping my ass.”

Ash’s voice sounds scraped and scratched, as if he can barely talk. I imagine his massive hand moving up and down on his long, thick erection as he speaks. “You’re going to come this way, aren’t you? Like a queen, riding what’s yours. Fuck his face hard, baby, that’s what he wants. He’ll have your smell and taste still on his lips when he watches you put my ring on your finger. He’ll remember the feeling of your thighs cradling his jaw when he watches us dance our first dance at the reception.”

“Jesus,” I half moan, half pray, burning up from the inside. I happen to look up right at that moment and catch our reflection in the floor-length mirror on the wall. Me, flushed and panting, necklace and tiara flashing in the light, kneeling in a cloud of white silk and tulle. The fabric almost completely hides the strong, tall male beneath me, except the wandering hands that are now roaming up to my corseted breasts to squeeze and grab. The bride riding the best man’s face. The groom, alone as he rubs himself listening.

The fairy tale, gone up in flames.

I am gone up in flames too. There's nothing left but a burning silhouette of need, and I forget everything but the hot mouth I'm fucking and the thick breaths of my fiancé at my ear, peppered with his murmured commands—ride him hard and grind, sweetie, grind till it feels good and push your clit in, make him suck it.

Heat crackles, flames rise, buildings and civilizations collapse into blistering beds of coals as at last release snaps free from my womb.

“I’m—" I can't finish, can't speak, can't breathe, contractions so fierce they make my eyes water centering in my pussy.

“I know, angel," Ash rasps. "You don’t have to tell me.”

And then everything explodes outwards. The contractions multiply, the walls of my cunt pulse, my clit throbs against Embry’s tongue. I cry out and cry out again because it feels like a living thing has a hold of me, puncturing me in the best ways, sending tingling heat to the roots of my hair and the tips of my toes. My cries slowly turn into whimpers, and beneath me, Embry’s mouth goes from ravenous to tender, gently sucking and kissing my pussy.

“My cock wants you,” Ash says raggedly. “It’s getting thick now. Dark and shiny. It wants to be in that wet pussy, but I can’t have it right now. So I’m using one of your silk blouses to jack myself off with.”

I moan at his words, aftershocks still traveling through me.

“I’m going to come,” he tells me, “and when I do, I’m going to pretend I’m standing over you right now, while you look all messy and flushed and ashamed. I’m going to pretend you’re looking at me with those big, gray eyes, looking guilty and scared, as I shove my cock down your throat. I’m going to pretend that you’re licking me clean after I come.”