Ready and Willing Read Online Free PDF

zapping through me. There’s one flimsy layer between my aching cunt and his fingers, and he finds my hard clit through the damp cotton, stroking.

    “You’re wet.” He whispers it like a beautiful accusation.

    “I want you.”

    “Right here?”

    “Please,” I say.

    His hands leave me to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly. I lean back so I can watch him push his pants and shorts down enough to take himself out. Big. Not as long as Rob, but thicker, just as mouthwatering.

    I reach down and wrap my fingers around him, and his hardness is shocking. I imagine it must hurt, being this hard. He even sounds pained, making little whimpering noises as I stroke him.

    “I love it,” I tell him, luxuriating in the feel of his skin sliding up and down his shaft, the harmony of his hips pushing to meet my strokes. He slips a hand between us, cupping his big, tight balls, fondling them and setting me on fire so instantly I feel light-headed.

    “God, yeah.” It’s impossible to express how badly and completely my body needs his, how this strays beyond attraction into the desperate wilds of biology.

    He kneads himself a bit rougher, a show for me. “I’ve got what you want,” he whispers, playing with himself.

    “I know you do.”

    His contracted brows and parted lips betray his cool, teasing facade. “You ready?”

    “I’m aching for it,” I say, God’s honest truth.

    He slips his fingers behind the crotch of my panties, runs his knuckles over my tender, slippery lips, and groans. “So wet.”

    “Take me, Noah.”

    He does, but with his fingers first. He thrusts deep, driving into my juices and my swollen, willing flesh, an excruciating tease. His thumb finds my clit.

    “I want you. Please.” My fist tightens around his cock.

    “Soon.”

    “Now. Please.”

    “ Soon ,” he repeats, and I can detect an evil smile in his tone, a taste of some secret side of this man. I guess I don’t know him as implicitly as I’d suspected, but I’m not sad to be proven wrong, just curious and impatient, fascinated. His fingers fuck me and my hand jerks him, and we masturbate each other for a long minute. Precum is beading at his tip, and I slick it over his head.

    “Now,” he says. He yanks my panties to one side and angles his cock. He plunges in deep in one thrust, pulling me down by the hips, burying himself.

    “Noah!”

    “Oh Abby.” His eyes close. We sit motionless for a few breaths, just experiencing each other. Deep inside me, he’s pulsing. I feel full and quenched…and yet still so thirsty. I have what I wanted, but my body’s screaming for more. I know how he feels, but now I want to know how he moves and sounds and smells. Everything.

    “You’re so thick,” I murmur in his ear. “And hard. Show me how you like to fuck.”

    His eyes open halfway, trained between our bodies. I lift my skirt up so he can see.

    “Ride me,” he says.

    I start to move, pulling back and pushing forward, taking him slow and explicitly.

    “God, Abby.”

    “You feel so good.” To emphasize, I draw back at a sharp angle, milking his thick cock with my hungry body. I want to hear him unravel as he nears his release. I want to feel his hands grab my hips and control me when he reaches that gorgeous point of no return. I want him frantic and nasty and demanding.

    “Want to make you come,” he moans. “Tell me what you need.”

    I consider the demand. And why shouldn’t I come, if he’s offering? “Just let me fuck you,” I say. “Slide forward a little.”

    He shimmies his ass closer to the front of the cushion.

    I ride him slow, brushing his pubic bone with my clit. I want to remember all of this: the faint, repetitive scrape of his zipper against my thigh, the smell of his sweat, the look of need on his handsome face. His cock feels so right, so big. I want to use him for more than just his precious cum.

    “Touch my breasts,” I beg.

    He pushes my shirt up, and I yank it off. I undo