// Got something inside, don't hide it, like dynamite ignitin' //
She comes alive under his touch, and the sounds she makes are something he needs in a way he never knew before. Each whimper, each breathy moan is proof—he's wanted, he's worthy of her, that he can drag her into the same heat she’s roasting him with. It feeds his hunger, stokes the hard press against his zipper that's nearing painful, every shift she provides a lesson in restraint that’s fast slipping.
Then she leans in with teeth and sugar, a test in the shape of a challenge, and he meets it without hesitation. He made her wait once—he won’t make that mistake again. The burger cook can fuck right off.
A rough sound tears through his clenched jaw as he surges to his feet, taking her with him, the table rattling as her ass hits it, fries and cola scattering like afterthoughts. "I can’t take another fucking second," he breathes, wild with the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her as his fingers fumble at the zipper of his shorts, yanking them down like they’ve burned him.
He steps between her spread knees, his erection pressing thick and aching against the soaked heat of her panties. The jolt of it makes his spine snap straight, his hips already aching for the next move. He bows over her, one hand sliding up to brush her cheek—reverent, just for a moment—before it tangles into her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back so he can devour her mouth.
His other hand dips beneath the gathered hem of her dress, teasing her clit with a final pass of his thumb—once, twice—before he hooks the fabric aside. He hovers at her entrance, the head of him nudging just enough to feel her slick warmth pulse in response. Maybe he’ll make her wait just a little longer, if only for the raw, devastating satisfaction of finally feeling all of her wrapped around him.
Then she leans in with teeth and sugar, a test in the shape of a challenge, and he meets it without hesitation. He made her wait once—he won’t make that mistake again. The burger cook can fuck right off.
A rough sound tears through his clenched jaw as he surges to his feet, taking her with him, the table rattling as her ass hits it, fries and cola scattering like afterthoughts. "I can’t take another fucking second," he breathes, wild with the taste of her, the smell of her, the feel of her as his fingers fumble at the zipper of his shorts, yanking them down like they’ve burned him.
He steps between her spread knees, his erection pressing thick and aching against the soaked heat of her panties. The jolt of it makes his spine snap straight, his hips already aching for the next move. He bows over her, one hand sliding up to brush her cheek—reverent, just for a moment—before it tangles into her hair, tugging just enough to tilt her head back so he can devour her mouth.
His other hand dips beneath the gathered hem of her dress, teasing her clit with a final pass of his thumb—once, twice—before he hooks the fabric aside. He hovers at her entrance, the head of him nudging just enough to feel her slick warmth pulse in response. Maybe he’ll make her wait just a little longer, if only for the raw, devastating satisfaction of finally feeling all of her wrapped around him.
Kaisel
// Take the music, learn to use it, turn it up 'til your speakers blow fuses //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
