Yeah. Yeah, yes, so fucking good. Foreman's thoughts tumbled through his head, incoherent and rising on a tide of vindication. This was better, this was what he knew it could have been. Amber, trusting him, her muscles trembling, doing nothing to stop him and everything to take advantage of his mouth, his fingers. The sounds she made, oh fuck, the neediness she had no problem showing. He'd always loved Amber's reactions, how free she was with them, open and honest and so, so arousing. If the price was the times that she stonewalled and stopped him, it was more than made up for by the times when Amber simply--let go, wanted, and took everything she wanted without once thinking of holding back.
Foreman felt it when she came, the quivering, clenching heat, and the rush of wetness against his tongue. He swallowed hard, sucked a little harder, and, panting, dropped his head as Amber recovered, surreptitiously wiping his face with the back of one arm. His body ached with tension, nerves jangling, every breath reminding him of the throb of his erection. They might be late to work, but right now, Foreman didn't give a rat's ass; he wanted to feel Amber, as closely around his cock as she had been around his tongue. Any moment now, before he gave in and stroked himself off out of pure, unadulterated need.
At Amber's invitation, Foreman crawled up the bed, quickly draping himself over her. He was burning, easily absorbing the slight chill in Amber's skin. "God," he said, all but breathless, corralling Amber between his forearms and propping himself up only to the extent of keeping his full weight off her. They were both slick with sweat, and without a thought, Foreman pushed his erection against Amber's stomach. "Ohh. Amber." He lowered his mouth to hers, lightly, floating on the rush of the kiss and the hot, delicious pleasure spiralling out from his cock. "Beautiful," he said, between needy inhales for air and short, deep kisses, still tasting Amber's wetness and licking his way into her mouth to add the sensation of her tongue meeting his. He was nearly out of control and he knew it, but he couldn't stop the quick, shallow thrust of his hips. Friction and heat and most of all, the remembered sound of Amber completely letting go--for him-- "You're--mmn--so good, baby. Love seeing you. Like that."
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Foreman felt it when she came, the quivering, clenching heat, and the rush of wetness against his tongue. He swallowed hard, sucked a little harder, and, panting, dropped his head as Amber recovered, surreptitiously wiping his face with the back of one arm. His body ached with tension, nerves jangling, every breath reminding him of the throb of his erection. They might be late to work, but right now, Foreman didn't give a rat's ass; he wanted to feel Amber, as closely around his cock as she had been around his tongue. Any moment now, before he gave in and stroked himself off out of pure, unadulterated need.
At Amber's invitation, Foreman crawled up the bed, quickly draping himself over her. He was burning, easily absorbing the slight chill in Amber's skin. "God," he said, all but breathless, corralling Amber between his forearms and propping himself up only to the extent of keeping his full weight off her. They were both slick with sweat, and without a thought, Foreman pushed his erection against Amber's stomach. "Ohh. Amber." He lowered his mouth to hers, lightly, floating on the rush of the kiss and the hot, delicious pleasure spiralling out from his cock. "Beautiful," he said, between needy inhales for air and short, deep kisses, still tasting Amber's wetness and licking his way into her mouth to add the sensation of her tongue meeting his. He was nearly out of control and he knew it, but he couldn't stop the quick, shallow thrust of his hips. Friction and heat and most of all, the remembered sound of Amber completely letting go--for him-- "You're--mmn--so good, baby. Love seeing you. Like that."