On his back--he should have known. Breathless, Foreman rolled when Amber pushed him, holding back his chuckle in case it would be too loud. Amber sat on top of him, as triumphant as if she'd pinned him in a wrestling match, her eyes glowing with pleasure and pride. Foreman kept his hand on his dick as she opened the condom, giving himself a few small, nudging strokes, not that he was in any danger of losing his erection. Not with Amber rubbing slickly against his thigh, and the sight of her breasts, her lithe body. "Yeah," he whispered back, his eyes taking in all of her. "Yeah, I want you." His skin was overheating, sweat trickling down his ribs, and Amber was so damn far away. Teasing him. He'd given her the choice, and the fantasy of watching Amber fuck herself on his dick like he was entirely hers, entirely there for her taking, had only grown since the time he'd haltingly asked her to tie him down. But he wanted to hold her, too; feel the rub of her breasts against his chest, warm her back by holding her in his arms. That was as much part of the desire as seeing Amber move on top of him, feeling her envelop him.
He grinned when Amber rolled the condom on, moving his hands to her thighs and massaging. "Not as good as you do," he said, his chest vibrating with silent laughter. She might have walked into that one, but it was true. Foreman would take functional, rather than colourful, condoms any day; but Amber usually supplied them, and he'd accept most things as long as they felt good for her.
He bit his lower lip and stared even harder as she straddled him. With one hand, she held him, and Foreman couldn't help the sharp sound he made when she lowered herself onto him. For a moment, their moans sounded in concert, and Foreman had to consciously draw back from saying anything more. He wanted to answer Amber--God, the way she'd said his name--but wrapped up in hot, tight pleasure or not, he still remembered where they were. Not enough to stop, not nearly enough, but he held back from all the things he wanted to say. He licked his lips, moving restlessly, his hands kneading Amber's thighs, then reaching higher to grasp her ass and pull her down on him, deeper. The sensation rocketed higher, so fucking good. He wanted more, needed it. Clenching his abs, he half-sat up, meaning to kiss her, to touch her in all the places he couldn't reach.
The second he moved, the bed gave a loud, complaining creak that could probably be heard in the next county, let alone in the living room.
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He grinned when Amber rolled the condom on, moving his hands to her thighs and massaging. "Not as good as you do," he said, his chest vibrating with silent laughter. She might have walked into that one, but it was true. Foreman would take functional, rather than colourful, condoms any day; but Amber usually supplied them, and he'd accept most things as long as they felt good for her.
He bit his lower lip and stared even harder as she straddled him. With one hand, she held him, and Foreman couldn't help the sharp sound he made when she lowered herself onto him. For a moment, their moans sounded in concert, and Foreman had to consciously draw back from saying anything more. He wanted to answer Amber--God, the way she'd said his name--but wrapped up in hot, tight pleasure or not, he still remembered where they were. Not enough to stop, not nearly enough, but he held back from all the things he wanted to say. He licked his lips, moving restlessly, his hands kneading Amber's thighs, then reaching higher to grasp her ass and pull her down on him, deeper. The sensation rocketed higher, so fucking good. He wanted more, needed it. Clenching his abs, he half-sat up, meaning to kiss her, to touch her in all the places he couldn't reach.
The second he moved, the bed gave a loud, complaining creak that could probably be heard in the next county, let alone in the living room.