NYC - Part 3

NOTE: The NYC Series starts with Face to Face. If you haven't been following along, you may want to start there.

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“On your knees, soldier.”

Steve complied, seemed amused at her tone. He wouldn’t be smirking for long, Emily thought.

She shifted, lay on her back, scooted up until her head was between his knees, nestled just beneath his cock. She dragged her nails along his testicles—just a light scraping—and he groaned his approval. She sucked one in, her hands reaching up to stroke his ass.

Stretched out before him, she spread her legs, her pussy still glistening. He leaned forward, his hands reaching out to open her thighs, but she slapped him back.

“No touching,” she said.

Steve sucked in a breath. “Evil bitch.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

“I’ll punish you later.”

She licked the palm of one hand, wrapped it around his cock. “I like the sound of that.”

With her other hand, she reached down, slipped two fingers into her cunt, pushed them in and out. The rhythmic sucking sound was punctuated by the slurping of her mouth and Steve’s slow, quiet cursing.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck. Fuck.” His hips rocked with each word, matching the easy tempo of her hand in her cunt.

Emily shifted, nudged him back onto the bed. He relaxed against the pillows, wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked.

“I said no touching.”

Steve lifted his hands in surrender, smiled when she straddled his hips, lowered onto him.

“This isn’t for you right now,” she said. She pumped once, twice, then a third slow stroke. “This is for me.”

She lifted her hips, scooted down to settle between his thighs.

She dragged her tongue the length of his cock, making greedy slurping sounds. “Our flavors blend well.” She gripped the shaft while her tongue circled the head. Her lips wrapped around the tip, sucked, while her hand stroked. His hips thrust up to meet her.

“Let me fuck you,” he said.

“In a minute.” She was enjoying the control, something she seldom had. And she wanted him to come, wanted to taste him.


He moved like lightning—grabbed her chin, flipped her over onto her belly, yanked her hips, pulling her ass toward him. With his knees, he kicked her legs open, reached around and found her clit. His fingers worked the swollen nub until she whimpered.

“Now,” he repeated, and thrust into her. It was hard, it was brutal and she loved it. The orgasm was instant.

His fingers never stopped, continued to work her clit. “I’m not done yet.” He slammed into her over and over. It was sensory overload and she had trouble breathing. Her body reacted on its own, reaching for the next orgasm as his cock slammed in and out of her cunt.

“I can’t,” she begged, her face pressed into the pillow. Her legs quivered and she could no longer hold herself up.

“One more.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll make you.”

He sucked his thumb, saturated it, then circled the pink bud that teased him, seemed to beg him. Her reaction was immediate.

She pressed back against him. “Yes. Oh, god, yes.”

He only managed three strokes before she convulsed around him.

“My turn,” he said.

Not giving her a chance to recover, he grabbed her hips with both hands and drilled into her, slamming against her wet cunt a dozen times before he finally let himself come.

The NYC series continues here

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