Fuck. Me.
Savannah tucks one of her little hands between herself and my side, but the other one splays across my chest, her fingers idly playing with the hair there.
I don’t know what’s worse, the sexual frustration or the regular frustration of trying to have a conversation with an intoxicated person.
Her hand slides lower, her fingertips tracing the outline of my abs, and I’m reminded of the outline of her nipples in that damn t-shirt.
The memory of those fat titties hanging free makes my cock pulse.
The hand resting on her side flexes but I leave it where it is. Even though I’m tempted to tug up the hem of her oversized shirt, because I’m pretty sure she’s wearing nothing but a pair of panties under there.
Savannah slides her hand on my stomach lower, like she’s aiming for my goddamn dick.
“Baby, if you don’t stop that right now, I’m going to fuck you. High or not. And then you’ll really hate me.”
Her hand stills but doesn’t pull away.
“I already hate you.” Her words are a murmur and I have to smile.
“No, you don’t.”
She’s silent for a second, and I think she’s fallen asleep, until she says, “I want to touch it.”
My body jumps to full attention.
“Touch what, Savannah.”
“Your…” her fingers inch lower, “thing.”
Thing.
That word should make my thing shrivel up, but it just gets harder.
“Can I?”
Instead of answering her whispered question, I reach down and grip her wrist. To push her away.
My hand lowers hers.
Not stopping until her warm little palm settles over my hard length. Searing me through the silk.
“It’s so big.” Her voice sounds awed, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut, because I’m nearly ready to blow.
I don’t reply. Because what possible reply could I have?
My cock is straining against her hand, and when her fingers try to wrap around my girth, I let out a groan.
With her grip still mostly around me, she pulls her hand up to the head, and I break out into a fucking sweat.
“It’s so long,” her lips are practically touching my nipple and I’ve never had a woman suck on my nipples before, but I’m wondering if I should ask her to.
Then, slowly, so motherfucking slowly, she slides her hand down to the base. When she reaches the root, her fingers loosen, and she settles her hand on top of my balls.
And then her breathing evens out. And she stops moving.
Because she just passed out. Cradling my nut sack.
This is my penance for every bad thing I’ve ever done.
“Fuck me.”
