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Dean said we can have sex at his place because no one will catch us fucking.
I have two people I have to watch out for... my husband and my dad. They would both kill me if they found out about me and Dean.
The whole way to Dean's house we couldn't keep our hands off of each other. At every red light he leaned over to kiss me, his fingers managed to make me cum 3 minutes into the ride, and at one point someone had to honk at us to go.
We stayed in front of his house for a good 2 minutes making out while he fingered me to another orgasm before going inside.
That lets me know his dick is good if his fingers are that good.
As soon as we get inside the house he pulls me into his beautifully tatted chest, "fuck," he murmurs against my lips. He already took his shirt off in the car and we used it so my orgasms wouldn't mess up his car seats.
He pours the desire he feels into the end of the kiss before pulling away and pushing me into the wall of his living room.
So aggressive, but so good.
Giving me one final kiss he goes down to my neck leaving sloppy kisses on it. He has a tight grip on my waist and his hard bulge is pressed firmly against my stomach.
The vibrations of his groans against my neck make my pussy beg for him to rip every fabric off of me.
Turning my head to the side I allow him more access to my neck, he takes advantage of it and I let out soft moans.
I know it's going to be marks on my neck the next day, but I really don't give a fuck. I grip onto his jet-black hair and bite my bottom lip. I just want this man inside of me.
He smells so good. So expensive.
Dean pulls away from my neck and looks down at me with a hungry look... a needy look, his hair is still neat, but his lips are swollen from all the kisses.
He slowly gets down to his knees with no shame sliding my panties down along with him. I step out of them, "down the hall, take a right, and it's the room at the end of the hall," he demands while looking up at me.
He gives my pussy a kiss before patting my ass for me to go, letting out another soft moan I look down at him confused.
Why aren't you coming?
He stands up grabbing me by my throat, "what the fuck did I just tell you to do," his eyes are full of lust and orders.
I love it.
Usually, I would beat the living fuck out of anyone who talks to me like that, but I like rough sex. A man that's rough in the bed and sweet outside of it was something I wanted my husband to be.
