dress down so it sits back over her hips where it belongs.
“It’s not your decision to make,” she tells me.
I lightly slap my hands around her red cheeks and crash my lips into hers, pressing her into the wall she’s in front of. As I hold my body firmly against hers, a weakness overcomes me while my lips work against hers. When I pull away, she’s glaring at me with pure anger, and it’s so fucking hot.
“If you want to fuck me, just do it. Right here. Right now,” she says.
“I knew you weren’t this perfect little princess with a clean mouth,” I whisper into her ear. My hand travels around her backside, and I grab the ass I’ve wanted to grab since the second I saw it squeezed into this tight-as-hell dress. The sound of a moan liquefies in my ear, and my cock is about to punch her in the stomach. I lift her up and move her onto the counter of the sink and she loops her legs around my waist before she tears the straps of her dress off her arms, allowing her tits to pop out. Just as I remember from the shower incident, they’re fucking huge with lightly blushed nipples staring right at me. I can’t control myself when I grab one and drop my head down to take it into my mouth. I realize that asshole is still cowering behind us, watching what he was hoping to be doing right now, but fuck him.
At some point, while I’m sucking on her tit, I realize I’m taking advantage of her completely drunk-as-hell state of mind, and that’s not the way I want this to go down, even though I’d kind of do just about anything for her to go down on me right now. “I’m about to explode in my fucking pants,” I whisper into her ear.
“Explode in me, then,” she says back. Her words are not Sasha’s words. This isn’t the Sasha I know; although, she did turn into a little devil when the power went out the other night.
“You had whisky, didn’t you?”
“Four Jack and cokes,” she giggles against my ear. The vibration from her lips on my skin makes things progress faster. This isn’t going to end well.
“I can’t fuck you when you’re drunk like this,” I tell her.
“I won’t tell anyone,” she says. “Just do it. You said I needed to get fucked, so fuck me.”
“When you’re sober and you say this to me, I’ll fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked, and you’ll be crying out my name for a week after. Deal?”
My hands are still exploring, taking the opportunity to remember what her tits feel like so I can think about them tonight when I have to jack off forty more times, thanks to these memories that will haunt me until she’s sober and willing.
“You’re giving me blue balls,” she says, slurring the words into my ear.
I hear the door slam behind us, and I look into the mirror behind Sasha’s head and see that Peter has finally taken a hint. “Blue balls, huh?”
“Yeah, girls can get blue balls too,” she says.
Sasha reaches to her waist and shifts around until her panties fall to her four-inch peep-toe heels and she dangles her feet until the lacey, black piece of silk finally falls to the ground. Her eyes are blazing and burning a hole right through me as she spreads her legs wider and leans her head back against the mirror. And this is officially pretty much the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life. I take a few steps back and lock the bathroom door. “Sasha, you’re drunk,” I tell her again.
“I have an ache right here,” she says, pointing between her legs. “Make it go away.” She reaches for my hand and shoves it between her sopping wet thighs. If I’m going to make this pain go away, I’m going to do it correctly. I kneel down and place her legs over each of my shoulders. I press my face firmly against her sex and, like the medic that I am, do my best to address the pain between her legs. It takes her less than a second before she’s bucking against my face, crying and moaning while she claws her fingers into her scalp. With her other hand, she’s pressing on the back of my head, pushing my face harder against her.