[And that's the last words she'll be saying for a while. Her tongue has better things to do than help her form snappy comebacks, like being dragged along the length of his cock and back again, only pausing to run the tip across his balls.]
[She's got a real talent for that, and he's certainly not afraid to say it. He's never been shy when it comes to expressing himself, anyway, especially in a situation like this one. His fingers twine into her hair, and he exhales a long, contented breath. This is pretty much how he'd been hoping his day would go, after all.]
[She grins against the skin of his thigh, far too pleased that she's barely even started and he's already cursing. Even though it doesn't seem like it'll take much to get him to that point, Angela's still relishing in the small power rush she gets from doing this. The weight of him on her tongue as she takes him into her mouth, the salty flavor of his skin, the way his fingers scrape her scalp... all of it is just what she craves.]
[He's just an enthusiastic guy in every way, and that includes this. She may have barely gotten started, but he's well aware of how good she is with her mouth. The further she takes him into her mouth the tighter his grip on her hair becomes, because he knows she doesn't mind him being a little rough, a little demanding -- because he knows just as well as she does that she's the one in control, when it comes right down to it.]
[No complaints here about his enthusiasm, just her moaning softly from the tension on her scalp. It's what she wants, seeking that reaction of him babbling wordlessly as she hollows her cheeks out around his cock, as she pulls back to just suck on the very tip of him, looking for those spots that'll make him pull on her hair because it's too much, too overwhelmed, pulling him too close the edge this early.]
[It's not a complaint, though, just a valid question, because she's uncannily good at finding those spots and exploiting them, and of course it makes him tug at her, one hand gripping onto her hair, one hand gripping the table because he needs something else to hold onto.]
[If there was every a cocky look to rival his, it's the one plastered on her face as she looks up at him, the tip of her tongue rolling just under the head, right in that little divot that she knows drives most men wild. Experience serves her well.]
There's no way in hell I'd let myself die before I fucked you. That just wouldn't be fair to either of us.
[That cocky look is pretty damn alluring, and he returns it, looking down at her, not stifling a low groan. She knows she's driving him wild, and she's not afraid to be proud of it. He likes that.]
[She could stop and bend over the table and let him give her what she came here for, but why do that when she's enjoying herself so much? She wants to push him to the edge, keep him hanging right there where he's so close that anything will have him losing it all. That much is arousing as feeling him inside her.
That doesn't mean she's satisfied with being ignored and with her shirt off, it's more than easy to fondle her own breasts as she continues sucking him, making her nipples stand stiff at attention.]
[There's no denying that she knows exactly what she's doing, and he likes that. It's almost better this way, that she's teasing him, pushing at him, not quite letting him be pushed over the edge -- because where would the fun be in that? -- but tormenting him all the same. When he looks down again to see her fondling her breasts like that, the way she touches her nipples, he can't help but want to do the same, but of course she's just out of reach, and the groan he lets out has a fair amount of frustration mixed in, too. The fun kind of frustration. The kind she's so very good at providing.]
[What she wouldn't do to feel his mouth in place of her hands and the temptation is strong to let him do it. That frustration she hears doesn't help abate her suddenly building need. She should have mercy on him, mercy on herself, but she won't. Not until she takes a deep breath and pulls him as deep as she can, moving a hand to hold his hips in place as she swallows, dark eyes watching every flicker of reactions on his face.]
[It's amazing that his enunciation of certain words actually gets better when he's flustered and frustrated and aroused, but it certainly seems to be the case. He wants to move his hips, but he knows better than to do so when her hand's holding them in place, so his grip on the table just tightens, his knuckles going white from the force he's gripping it with. He doesn't grab her hair as hard as he's grabbing the table, but still, there's an increased pressure nonetheless.
He could close his eyes from how good it feels, but he won't. No, he likes this whole eye contact thing far too much to look away now.]
[For being the one in control, Angela finds herself getting weak in the knees at how he holds their eye contact. Far too many people would look away or close their eyes, either from embarrassment of being seen so open and so raw or from sudden awkwardness. There's neither here and she likes that about him. So unfettered, not a bit of shame when it comes to sex. That alone is a turn on and as she lets go of him, she leans back on her legs, lips tinged red and slightly swollen, panting more from arousal than a lack of air.]
[The way he sees it, there're way too many things in life to be ashamed of, but this shouldn't be one of them. They're both enjoying themselves, and there's something so goddamned beautiful about her dark, intense eyes... but there he goes getting sappy again, and that's not what she wants, so he just reaches for her, wanting to pull her close to him -- and wanting to bend her over the table, or get her sitting on the table, or something that can give them what he knows they both desperately want.]
[Angela doesn't hesitate getting to her feet and letting him pull her close. She finds his mouth again, seeking her way back in, as she tugs on the waistband of her pants. The faster she gets the rest of her clothing off, the faster she'll be the one cursing and pleading.]
[He's willing to help with her pants, too, wanting to slide her out of them and have her standing in front of him naked and perfect. His hands might be moving quickly, but they're deft in their work, too. There's no clumsiness or awkwardness here, just desire and something very much like need. His lips part for her, deepening the kiss.]
[She's back at that place she arrived in, that awareness of how bad she needs this, that she wants nothing more than him right now. The pants can't come off fast enough and once they hit her ankles, she's kicking them away without a care. Where they fall, she'll figure out later. Just now it's him and her, bared to each other, and she's touching every part of skin she can find.]
[He grins into her mouth as she kicks her pants away, feeling her body pressed against his, relishing the touch of her warm, bare skin as he slides a hand down her back and then around her side, reaching between them to trail down her hips and then, finally, between her legs. He knows she probably doesn't want a whole lot of teasing right now, but she'd gotten him so worked up, it's reasonable to return the favor.
As soon as his fingers find just the right spot, of course, he wastes no time in beginning a teasing, almost lazy rubbing motion.]
[She should have seen that coming. Turnabout is always fair play, but that doesn't mean she has to like it. But she does, evident by the groan she pushes into his mouth as his fingers work against her maddeningly slow. She can't deny it feels good, rough hands against soft and slick flesh. She's so wet that she could never pretend it doesn't get her blood going. There's nothing here that says she won't let him hear about it, though.]
Jesus Christ... [A sharp nip to his lip makes her point stand out.] You're an asshole.
[How she manages to form full sentences at this level of frustration is a miracle. She's practically climbing him at this point, her grip on his arm turning tighter as she grinds against his hand for more. No matter what, it's dissatisfying, only serving to wind her up more, making that coil deep in her belly contract, but go nowhere.]
[He'll take pity on her, though -- or maybe it's just taking pity on himself, because he can't keep doing this for much longer without getting way too frustrated. So he pulls his hand away finally, grinning at her.]
How d'you want it?
[Even as he speaks, he's reaching down around his ankles to pull his pants up for a second -- but just for the sake of grabbing the condom from his pocket. Hey, at least he'd been prepared for that, even if he hadn't greeted her at the door naked. Maybe next time]
[If that's not clear enough, she could make it even more straightforward, but she'd rather kiss his jawline, his throat, and across his chest than talk. Every patch of warm skin she finds, she puts her mouth on. A girl can entertain herself while he's busy.]
[Yep, that's pretty damn clear, and he doesn't even give a verbal response to it, because he's too busy getting the condom on and then turning her around to bend her over the table, hand on the small of her back, just a little bit rough, a little bit quick and desperate in his movements. And then he can't resist trailing his hand across her ass, because...]
[Her voice is tight with frustration and anticipation both. She can't help but glance back over her shoulder, hair falling across her face to shadow her eyes and she certainly can't help the wiggle of her ass and the push of it into his hips. Impatient? Definitely.]
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[And that's the last words she'll be saying for a while. Her tongue has better things to do than help her form snappy comebacks, like being dragged along the length of his cock and back again, only pausing to run the tip across his balls.]
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[She's got a real talent for that, and he's certainly not afraid to say it. He's never been shy when it comes to expressing himself, anyway, especially in a situation like this one. His fingers twine into her hair, and he exhales a long, contented breath. This is pretty much how he'd been hoping his day would go, after all.]
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[It's not a complaint, though, just a valid question, because she's uncannily good at finding those spots and exploiting them, and of course it makes him tug at her, one hand gripping onto her hair, one hand gripping the table because he needs something else to hold onto.]
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Don't die before you fuck me.
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[That cocky look is pretty damn alluring, and he returns it, looking down at her, not stifling a low groan. She knows she's driving him wild, and she's not afraid to be proud of it. He likes that.]
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That doesn't mean she's satisfied with being ignored and with her shirt off, it's more than easy to fondle her own breasts as she continues sucking him, making her nipples stand stiff at attention.]
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[It's amazing that his enunciation of certain words actually gets better when he's flustered and frustrated and aroused, but it certainly seems to be the case. He wants to move his hips, but he knows better than to do so when her hand's holding them in place, so his grip on the table just tightens, his knuckles going white from the force he's gripping it with. He doesn't grab her hair as hard as he's grabbing the table, but still, there's an increased pressure nonetheless.
He could close his eyes from how good it feels, but he won't. No, he likes this whole eye contact thing far too much to look away now.]
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C'mere.
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As soon as his fingers find just the right spot, of course, he wastes no time in beginning a teasing, almost lazy rubbing motion.]
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Jesus Christ... [A sharp nip to his lip makes her point stand out.] You're an asshole.
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[Another lazy motion of his fingers, and then a pause, just to relish how aroused she is, to feel the slickness on his fingertips.]
... guess you must be okay with me bein' an asshole, since you're the one who wanted me to fuck you so bad.
[He breaks the kiss and leans close to say it, mouth by her ear, then nibbling at her earlobe.]
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[How she manages to form full sentences at this level of frustration is a miracle. She's practically climbing him at this point, her grip on his arm turning tighter as she grinds against his hand for more. No matter what, it's dissatisfying, only serving to wind her up more, making that coil deep in her belly contract, but go nowhere.]
Am I going to have to fuck myself?
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[He'll take pity on her, though -- or maybe it's just taking pity on himself, because he can't keep doing this for much longer without getting way too frustrated. So he pulls his hand away finally, grinning at her.]
How d'you want it?
[Even as he speaks, he's reaching down around his ankles to pull his pants up for a second -- but just for the sake of grabbing the condom from his pocket. Hey, at least he'd been prepared for that, even if he hadn't greeted her at the door naked. Maybe next time]
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[If that's not clear enough, she could make it even more straightforward, but she'd rather kiss his jawline, his throat, and across his chest than talk. Every patch of warm skin she finds, she puts her mouth on. A girl can entertain herself while he's busy.]
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Damn, that's a nice view.
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[Her voice is tight with frustration and anticipation both. She can't help but glance back over her shoulder, hair falling across her face to shadow her eyes and she certainly can't help the wiggle of her ass and the push of it into his hips. Impatient? Definitely.]
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