Chapter 233

She had tossed her shirt aside and hiked up her skirt. She wore thigh-high stockings and a garter belt, which I admired. She didn't wear panties.

"Play," I said.

She grabbed one of my hands and pulled it between her thighs. She had a prominent pubic bone, compact mound, and a protruding clitoris. Cloudy fluid flowed from her slit.

"Do it however you want," she said. "But don't be a pussy. I like it rough."

I savored her wetness and jutted two fingers into her cunt. She let out a sharp sigh. Her hands made a desperate lunge for my shorts, grasping at the button and zipper.

"How rough?" I asked.

"My favorite thing is when my fiancé holds a knife to my throat and pretends to rape me," she said. "You aren't going to be too rough."

"Fiancé?" I said.

"Most guys get put off by the ring," she said.

"Not me," I said. "Do you have