When she moved to take all of him, he moaned, thrusting deeper, his hand going to her hair, rocking with her rhythm. She scratched her fingernails lightly up over his thighs. When she cupped his balls in her hands, feeling their weight, she was rewarded with a pleasure-filled groan. He was slippery smooth, her saliva and his pre-cum mixing to make the perfect lubricant. Her mouth took as much of him as she could, his thick, tender flesh a delight against her tongue.

He stopped her, moving her eager mouth off his cock. She sucked at his fingers, still hungry. “Annie, I need to be inside of you.”

“Yes.” She captured his cock between them as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him. He bent to meet her greedy mouth and she sucked his tongue, his lips. Her hands slid up under his shirt, seeking more of his warm skin against her.

His thumbs had found her nipples again, that silky sensation over the material making her knees weak. She wanted more and unhooked her bra, spilling her breasts. He pressed them together, creating a supple swell of flesh in his hands that seemed to sway him from his immediate need to be inside of her.

Annie wasn’t so easily distracted and she turned in his arms like liquid, bending over the table and hiking her skirt up her thighs. His hands followed her in the dark like a blind man seeking his way. He seemed to be discovering her position by feel, the back of her knee, her hip. His hand pressed the slope of her lower back forward until her belly touched the cool surface of the table.

His other hand slipped between her thighs, and she spread them at his insistence. Two fingers pressed inside her, easing the passage. For Annie, it created an aching frame of reference and desire for more while she waited for him to replace his fingers with his thick, throbbing cock.