The Booty Call Pt. 02

**Hi again, an anonymous user asked for a sequel with a cis girl last chapter, so I thought I'd oblige. Had a fun time writing this one from scratch, not sure if you can tell the style is different from one based on a roleplay that was partially written by someone else. Hope you like it!

This story contains a trans character, based on a hotter version of me, and some fucking. All characters are of age, and also fictional. Honestly, you're on an erotic literature website, do I really need to put these kind of warnings? Probably not**

I'm sitting around again one Friday night, flicking through the streaming services, completely unable to find anything worth watching. As the clock strikes two, a familiar buzz vibrates through my phone. It's a text from Emma, who I'd met through some friends out at the bars a few months back. She was Mexican and I'm American. We immediately bonded over being North Americans living in England. I honestly don't know what my other friends did that night, I only had eyes for her. We hooked up that night in the bathroom, and a few times since, but she's always been aloof and kept things casual between us. Of course, I was smitten with anyone who didn't want me, but that's a conversation for me and my therapist. Her text is short and simple, just 2 words, "u up?" You know what that means at 2 am. Emma's alone and horny and has decided to reach out to you.

Oh hell yes.

I remember my last few meetings with Emma, and feel my cheeks flush and my shaved cock start to stir in my panties. Ok Rose, play it cool, don't want to come off as too thirsty.

"I am yea, what's up?" I reply, pretending I don't know exactly why she's texting. I immediately go to start getting ready while I wait for her reply. A quick shave to start, and then make up. I go for a bold winged eyeliner, purple sparkly eye shadow, lots of contour, and too much blush. I learned make up from Insta, it's not my fault! I'm about to put on some fake lashes when my phone buzzes again. Emma's reply pops up on my screen, accompanied by a selfie. Emma's lying on her bed, dark hair fanned out across a pillow, one strap of her blue baby doll lingerie sliding off a tan shoulder. Her hazel eyes are half-lidded, lips curved in that smirk that always makes my stomach flip. The text reads:

"Don't play dumb, Red. You know exactly what's up. My place. Door's unlocked. Don't make me wait. ????"

I stare at the photo for a moment longer than I'd like to admit, then fumble with the fake lashes, nearly gluing my eye shut in the rush.

"Fuck me," I curse under my breath, before peeling it off, and trying again. Better. I throw on my tightest jeans, a cropped black top that shows just enough midriff, and my favorite cropped leather jacket. A spritz of perfume - the vanilla one Emma once said she liked, not that I'm keeping track or anything - and I'm out the door. The Uber to her high-rise takes twelve minutes. I spend eleven of them checking my makeup in my phone camera while my leg jiggles nervously, and one minute pretending I'm totally chill about this. The lobby is all sleek marble and soft lighting, and the elevator ride to the fourteenth floor feels like it takes forever. I finds Emma's door, take a breath, run my fingers through my red hair one last time, and push it open.

Emma's flat is all clean lines and moody ambient lighting - a floor-to-ceiling window overlooks the glittering city skyline, a plush sectional sofa, and the faint sound of something low and sultry playing from a speaker somewhere. The air smells like vanilla candles and trouble. But no Emma in sight - just the soft glow from the hallway leading toward the bedroom, like a breadcrumb trail she knows damn well I'm going to follow.

"Emma? It's Rose, where you at?" I wander towards where I know the bedroom is, tamping down my nerves. My fingers run over the lines of my garter belt straps as I can feel them through my tight jeans. A black three piece number in silk and lace, the garter-belt clipped to thigh high socks rather than stockings. I'm so excited already, I can feel the hammering of my heart in my chest and the pressure of my tuck trying to break free. I round the corner into the hallway, and there she is - leaning against the bedroom doorframe like she owns the whole damn building. Which, knowing Emma's energy, she might as well. Emma's in that blue baby doll lingerie from the selfie, but the photo didn't do it justice. The sheer fabric barely kisses mid-thigh, the lace cups struggling to contain her full breasts, tan skin glowing warm in the soft light from the bedside lamp. Her dark hair cascades over one shoulder, and those hazel eyes - mischievous, hungry - rake slowly over Rose from head to toe. She bites her lower lip and tilts her head.

"Took you long enough, Red," Emma murmurs, her voice low and teasing. Red. No one else calls me that, but I like it. She pushes off the doorframe and closes the distance between us in two confident steps. Her fingers find the collar of my jacket, gripping it and tugging me closer until our faces are just inches apart. The scent of her - warm skin, something floral, a hint of tequila - hits me like a wave. "I was starting to think you were gonna leave me hanging." Her eyes flick down to my lips, then back up. That smirk deepens - dangerous, playful, absolutely devastating. "Cute makeup, by the way. You get all dolled up just for me?" She doesn't wait for an answer. Her hand slides from my collar to the back of my neck, nails dragging lightly through red hair. "I like the effort. Now let's see what else you're wearing under all this..." Her other hand finds the hem of my cropped top, fingertips grazing bare skin just above the waistband of those tight jeans, electric and deliberate.

"Oh, you know me, I'm always fabulous." I lie through my teeth, giddy at her compliments. I shiver gently and feel goosebumps bloom across my skin as she teases my exposed skin. My arms find their way to her waist, running gently down her sides, tracing the line as her slender waist curves out to her ample Latina hips. A wave of lust mixed with jealousy runs through me, as I dig my fingers in, squeezing the soft flesh. I take some initiative and lean forward to close the gap between us, planting a kiss on her lips. Needy, but gentle, testing the limits of whatever game she feels like playing. She's always playing some control game, or other, keeping people at arm's length, even when they're literally inside her. Soft lips against soft, so different to kissing a man. Emma lets out a soft hum against my lips - not quite a moan, more like approval. She lets the kiss stay gentle for exactly three seconds before she decides that's enough of that. Her hand tightens in my red hair, gripping near the root, and she pulls back just far enough to break the kiss with a quiet, wet sound.

"Gentle? Really?" she whispers, her breath warm against my mouth. Those hazel eyes are lit up with challenge, pupils already blown wide. "You know that's not how I play, Red." She pushes me backwards - not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make a point - until the backs of my knees hit the edge of her bed and I sit down with a surprised bounce. Emma follows immediately, swinging one leg over to straddle my lap, the sheer fabric of the baby doll riding up her thighs. The weight of her settles warm and deliberate, and she rolls her hips once - slow, grinding - just to watch my face. Her fingers find the zipper of the leather jacket and drag it down with agonizing patience.

"Mm, there we go," she purrs, pushing the jacket off my shoulders and tossing it somewhere behind her without looking. Her hands slide down my arms, then back up under the cropped top, nails dragging across skin. "Goosebumps already? I barely touched you." That smirk again - wicked, knowing. She leans in close, lips brushing my ear. I'm just ready to open my mouth and accept her tongue when she pulls my hair and breaks the moment. Fuck I love having my hair pulled, and I nearly swoon as she knots her fist there. "Now let's see this little outfit you put together for me. Stand up and strip. Slowly." She climbs off my lap and settles back on the bed, propping herself against the pillows, legs crossed, watching expectantly like a queen on her throne.

"Ohh..." I whimper audibly as she climbs off, disappointment leaking out of me. I blush and turn my face away, hiding behind my bangs hoping she didn't hear that. Be cooler Rose, don't let her know you're already putty in her hands. "Yea, ok, I'll strip for you. Make sure you've got your singles ready." A joke. The UK doesn't even have 1 pound notes, but the idea is there. I stand before her as she lounges on her bed, the thong of her lingerie peering out from beneath the hem. If you can even call that piece of string underwear. My eyes linger as I start to undo the button fly of my jeans. Slowly and deliberately, I undo them one by one, taking her in... I make eye contact on the third, looking for... approval? Desire? I'm met with a look of pure smoldering lust as my own blue eyes meet her hazel ones, and she bites her lower lip. She watches every button like it's a private show, which, to be fair, it is. Buttons undone, my hands trail across my hips to the sides of the jeans. I turn away, giving her a view from behind as I peel the tight jeans down my hips. Narrow and slender, unlike her generous proportions but with a bubble butt that I've put no shortage of squats and leg lifts into. I wriggle and shake as I slide them down revealing the black silk garter belt and thong beneath, and bend over at the waist, locking my knees and sticking my ass out as I pull them the rest of the way down. Emma lets out a low whistle that's half appreciation, half possession. There's no sexy way to get the jeans free from my ankles, but a few quick stepping movements pulls the tight fabric past my feet, and I kick them away. I turn to look over my shoulder at her, "Like what you see so far?" Emma's eyes go dark - that particular shade of hazel that means I'm in trouble, the good kind.

"Oh, you little tease," Emma breathes, uncrossing her legs and sitting up on the edge of the bed. Her gaze traces the lines of the garter belt, the way the black silk cuts across my pale skin, the straps framing the ass I've done so many squats for. "Thigh highs clipped to a garter-belt with a thong? You absolutely did not just throw this on. You were ready before I even texted, weren't you, Red?" I hear the bed creak, and then Emma's hands are on me - warm palms sliding up the backs of my thighs, fingers hooking under the garter straps and snapping one against my skin with a sharp little twang. Emma presses her lips to the small of my back, just above the waistband of the thong, and drags a slow, open-mouthed kiss across the base of my spine. "I like it. I like it a lot." Her voice vibrates against my skin. One hand slides around my hip, fingertips tracing the edge of the thong across my lower belly - dangerously close, deliberately not close enough. She hooks a finger under the waistband and tugs me backward. "Now turn around. I want to see the rest. And lose the top - you don't need it anymore." Those hazel eyes look up at me from the edge of the bed, chin tilted, smirk razor-sharp, absolutely devouring every inch of me. I don't turn around immediately, instead, I lean back into her touch, sighing as I push my hips against her hand.

"You have no idea how much I need this tonight." I turn to face her, and climb onto the bed, straddling her, our earlier positions now reversed. I take her hands, and run them up my thighs, wrap them behind me, pausing to let her feel my ass, before drawing them up my sides, the gentle touch on my waist sending a shiver through me as her long manicured nails trace my skin. As her hands reach the hem of my shirt I say, "Go ahead and take it off me then." I release her hands and raise my own over my head, thrusting my chest into her face. Emma doesn't need to be told twice. Her hands grip the hem of my top and peel it upward - slow, savoring - dragging the fabric across sensitive skin until it clears my head and joins the growing pile of discarded clothing somewhere on the floor. Emma's eyes drop to what's underneath and she lets out a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

"Black lace bralette too? You coordinated, Red. You coordinated." Her hands slide up my bare stomach, nails leaving faint pink trails on pale skin, until her palms cup my perky B cups through the delicate lace. She squeezes - not gentle, possessive - thumbs dragging across the fabric. "God, you're so fucking pretty it's annoying. You know that?" Emma leans forward and presses her mouth to my collarbone, teeth grazing first, then biting down - not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to leave a mark. She sucks at the spot, tongue hot and deliberate, while her hands roam my back, nails raking down the notches in my spine. One hand finds my ass again, grabbing a handful and pulling my hips down firmly against her lap, creating friction that makes us both catch their breath. Emma pulls back from the mark she's made - already blooming red against my pale skin - and admires her work with a satisfied hum. "You said you needed this tonight," Emma murmurs, looking up at me through those long, dark lashes, her lipstick now smeared slightly at the corner of her mouth. Her hand slides from my ass to my inner thigh, fingers walking slowly upward along the garter strap, teasing closer and closer to the straining silk of my thong. "So tell me, baby - how bad do you need it? Because I'm in the mood to make you beg for it." That smirk. Those eyes. Her fingertips hovering right there, barely a whisper away, waiting.

"Mmmm..." I groan, arching my back as I grind down against her hand. "Please, Emma. Don't make me beg. You can feel my need, can't you? I'm already dying just looking at you." I grind against her hand further, my growing erection pushing hot and hard against her soft delicate hand, the thin layer of lace and silk between them only enhancing the sensation. "You already know I'm wrapped around your finger." I gently grab the sides of her head, my fingers getting lost in her soft dark hair, and hold her gaze a moment before leaning in and kissing her. Needy and desperate, my tongue invades her mouth as I grind against her luscious body and that soft hand sat between my thighs. Emma feels my hardness pressing against her palm and her fingers curl around it instinctively through the silk, giving a firm squeeze that draws a muffled gasp from my mouth into hers. She kisses back - hard, messy, all tongue and teeth - biting my lower lip and pulling it before letting it snap back. Her hand starts stroking slowly through the fabric, deliberate and torturous, feeling me throb against her fingers.

"Mmm, you really are desperate, aren't you?" Emma breathes against my swollen lips, a wicked grin spreading across her face. She tightens her grip just enough to make my hips stutter. "I said I wanted you to beg, and that little speech? That wasn't begging, Red. That was negotiating. There's a difference." Her free hand grabs a fistful of my red hair and yanks my head back, exposing the pale column of my throat. She drags her tongue from collarbone to jaw, oh fuck, that feels good... Then she bites down on the soft spot just below my ear - hard enough to sting, hard enough to bruise tomorrow. Pain shudders through my senses, merging with my excitement and sending another shiver through me. She holds it, sucking hard. Fuck, that's going to leave another mark, I think with annoyance. Her other hand keeps up that agonizingly slow rhythm between my thighs, thumb tracing circles over the sensitive head through damp fabric. "But since you're being so sweet about it..." Emma whispers against the fresh mark on my neck, her voice dripping with something dark and honeyed. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of the thong and snaps it against my hip. "I'll give you a choice. You can beg me properly - on your knees - or I can make you beg. Either way, I promise you, baby, you're going to scream my name tonight. So which is it?" Those hazel eyes burn up at me, half-lidded and merciless, waiting for her answer. Damn if this girl doesn't know how to play me like a fiddle. She's forgotten though, that I'm on top of her at the moment, I have the high ground. I run my hands down her neck, shoulders, before grabbing her wrists and pulling them over her head while pushing her back on the bed. I'm fully on top her now, as she lays displayed beautifully beneath me, one nipple peaking out of the cup of her baby doll, not that the transparent lace had been doing much to hide them. Emma gasps - actually gasps - as I pin her down. Her eyes go wide for a split second, surprise flickering through the confident mask before it's replaced by something even more dangerous: delight.

Holding her wrists with one hand, I lean down near her ear, whispering. "You want me to beg, Emma? Okay. Please, please let me tear your panties off and ravage you until you cum screaming my name." I take the opportunity for some payback, and nibble her earlobe, her soft hot neck, before biting hard, and sucking like she'd done to me. If she's going to leave her mark on me, I'll make sure she wears some of mine too. Her back arches off the bed, pressing her body up against mine, that escaped nipple dragging against my own chest through the thin lace.

"Oh, so Red's got some fight in her tonight-" The words dissolve into a sharp moan as my teeth sink into her neck again. She wraps her legs around my waist instinctively, ankles locking behind me, pulling our hips flush together. She writhes beneath the bite, her wrists twisting in my grip - testing, not actually trying to break free. The moan that comes out of her when I suck hard on that spot is absolutely filthy, echoing off the bedroom walls. "F-fuck... fuck, Rose..." Her chest heaves, tan skin flushed, dark hair splayed wild across the white sheets. She turns her head to give me better access to her throat, surrendering that territory even as her thighs squeeze tighter. When I finally pull back, Emma's eyes are glazed, her lips parted, a purple bloom already forming on the curve of her neck. She looks up at me with an expression caught between fury and raw want - nostrils flaring, chest rising and falling rapidly. "You're going to pay for that," Emma whispers, but her voice cracks on the last word, betraying her. Her hips roll up against me - slow, grinding, deliberate - and she bites her own lip hard enough to turn it white. "Well? You asked so nicely... what are you waiting for, Red? Tear them off." I look her directly in her beautiful eyes, so full of desire and mischief right now, and release her wrists, the hand hovering there still.

"Stay." A simple command, bound only by will and agreement rather than strength. When she doesn't immediately move her wrists, I start to make my way down her body, kissing her neck again, gently now, the collar bones, breasts. I pull the flimsy material of her baby doll to either side, fully exposing her gorgeous dark nipples as the nightdress subtly pushes her perfect tits together for me.

"You- you're really going to- oh-" The words die in her throat when my mouth finds her nipple, capturing it, teasing it. The most gentle touch of teeth, a threat and a promise, before my tongue starts gently circling, flicking, as I feel it pucker and harden in my mouth. I move a hand to the other breast, squeezing and fondling as I suckle on it's partner. God she has the most perfect tits. Round and full, while still perky, and those subtle tan lines, mostly faded now. Emma's back bows off the mattress, a desperate, broken sound spilling out of her that she'd absolutely deny making later. Her thighs press together, hips squirming restlessly as I work her over with teeth and tongue. A few moments longer, and I switch to the other breast, repeating my ministrations. Emma actually whimpers - quiet, involuntary, completely unlike her usual commanding bravado. "Rose... Rose... god, your fucking mouth..." Finally, I release her nipple from my mouth with a wet pop.

"Oh sorry, I was taking your panties off, wasn't I? I got distracted." Emma's hands twitch above her head - the instinct to grab, to take control, warring visibly with the thrill of being told to stay. Her fingers curl into fists against the pillow, knuckles going white, but she doesn't move them. A shaky exhale escapes her as my mouth begins its descent, and her whole body trembles with the effort of holding still. She lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, her chest heaving, both nipples glistening and hard. Her flushed face is a masterpiece of desperate frustration - eyebrows pinched, lips swollen from biting them, that purple mark on her neck darkening beautifully.

"You're a goddamn menace, you know that?" Emma pants, finally breaking position to prop herself up on her elbows, glaring at me with zero real anger and approximately a thousand degrees of heat. "Yes, you were taking my panties off. So stop admiring the scenery and get down there before I lose my patience and sit on your face instead. Because that is absolutely where this is heading if you keep teasing me, Red." Her thighs fall open - an invitation, a challenge, a demand - and she hooks one foot behind my shoulder, push me downward with zero subtlety.

"Don't threaten me with a good time." I smile and wink at her as I continue down her body, kissing my way down her stomach through the sheer nightie. I make it to the hem, and push it up a bit, revealing the dental floss pretending to be underwear wrapped around her gorgeous wide hips. A small wet spot stains the little triangle at the front, though which one of us caused that is a mystery at this point. I have to drop back off the bed, kneeling in front of her again, and catch the edge of the thong between my teeth. As I start to pull it down, my hands move to her hips, feeling her gorgeous curves, the shape of her ass, before pulling down on the thong from there as well. Pro tip: Removing someone's underwear with your teeth is sexy in theory, but really difficult in practice. Best to do use your hands to help it along while maintaining the appearance. And then they're at her knees, and down her ankles, I pull them free from one foot then the other and discard the thong to the pile of clothes off to the side. There it is, right in front of me. A tidy landing strip of hair above flushed lips, slightly spread, revealing the pink wetness inside. I stare, slack-jawed for a moment, before I nearly dive in face first, burying my tongue in Emma's gorgeous pussy. The moment my tongue makes contact, her entire body jolts like she's been electrified. Her hand - so obedient moments ago - flies down and grabs a fistful of red hair, shoving my face harder against her.

"Fuck! Oh my- fuck, Rose-" Emma's voice cracks into something high and desperate, her hips bucking up off the mattress against my mouth. She's soaked - absolutely drenched - and the taste of her floods my senses, warm and musky and intoxicating. Her thighs clamp around my head, those strong legs trembling as my tongue drags through slick folds. "Don't you dare stop- right- god, right there-" Emma's head falls back against the pillows, her chest heaving, the baby doll bunched uselessly around her waist. Her hips roll in a desperate rhythm against my face, chasing the sensation with zero shame. Those manicured nails scrape against my scalp, alternating between gripping and guiding, pulling me impossibly closer. Every flick of my tongue draws another sound out of Emma - gasps, whimpers, half-formed curses in Spanish that I don't need to translate to understand. "You- you're so fucking good at this-" Emma pants, propping herself up just enough to look down. The sight of me kneeling between her thighs, blue eyes looking up at her, mouth buried between her legs - it makes Emma's stomach clench and her breath catch audibly. She bites her knuckle hard, trying and failing to compose herself, mascara already starting to smudge at the corners of her eyes. "More... please, Rose, more- I need- I need your fingers too, baby, please-" Emma begging. Actually begging. The irony isn't lost on either of us.

"Told you I'd have you screaming my name." I lick my lips before diving back in, latching on to her swollen clit, sucking and making little circles with my tongue. I press a manicured finger between her lips, feeling the wetness there, before carefully turning my wrist and inserting two fingers, so aware and careful not to scratch her with my acrylics. Fingers inserted all the way in, I thrust them gently in and out a few times, and spread them, before curling back and finding the rough bump at the front, which I start to rub vigorously. I stare up between her thighs - firmly clamped around my ears - between the soft rise of her breasts and meet her eyes, watching her face contort with pleasure as I conduct my ministrations. With my free hand, I reach between my own legs and start to stroke myself through my own panties, palm flat against the soft material. I'm so fucking hard right now, I can feel the pre-cum soaking my panties as I go down on this goddess. The sound Emma makes when my fingers curl inside her isn't human. It's raw, guttural, torn from somewhere deep - her whole body arching off the bed like a bowstring pulled taut. Her thighs shake violently around my head, her fist gripping my red hair so tight it hurts, but neither of us care right now.

"Oh god- oh fuck- Rose, Rose, Rose-" Emma's voice climbs higher with every stroke against that spot, her hips grinding shamelessly against my mouth and fingers in a frantic, stuttering rhythm. Her free hand claws at the sheets, twisting expensive cotton between white-knuckled fingers. Spanish tumbles out of her in breathless fragments, "así, así, no pares, por favor!" Her eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, tendons standing out sharp in her neck. The baby doll is completely ruined, bunched and twisted, her body on full display - flushed from chest to cheeks, a thin sheen of sweat making her tan skin glow in the low light. When she looks down again and catches my eyes between her thighs - notices the way I'm touching herself while eating her out - something snaps. Emma's mouth falls open in a silent scream, her walls clenching hard around my fingers, thighs slamming tight against my ears. Her whole body seizes, back arching impossibly high off the mattress, and then she's coming - hard - a broken, ragged cry of my name ripping through the bedroom as she pulses and shakes and floods my mouth, drenching my hand. Wave after wave rolls through her, hips jerking erratically, until she finally collapses back against the pillows, chest heaving, eyes glassy, one hand still tangled weakly in my hair. "Holy... shit..." Emma whispers hoarsely, staring at the ceiling, completely wrecked. She lets out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. "Get up here. Now. It's your turn, Red." I bring my hand to my lips, and deliberately suck each finger clean while staring at Emma.

"Oops, think I've ruined my makeup." I crawl over to my discarded handbag, back arched, ass displayed seductively, of course, and rummage through until I find my lipstick. I turn back to Emma, rising up on my knees, and twist out the tube, a color called 'Vicious Trollop', and generously apply, smacking and pouting my lips. I drop the makeup, and climb up on the bed again, joining Emma. "Did you have a good time, princess? What do I get for my turn?" Emma watches me crawl around on the floor for her with open, shameless appreciation - still catching her breath, propped up on one elbow, her body a beautiful wreck of tangled lingerie and sweat-damp skin. Her eyes are narrow with renewed hunger, her tongue dragging slowly across her lower lip.

"'Vicious Trollop'? Fitting," Emma purrs, her voice still ragged at the edges. She sits up as I climb into the bed, and before I can settle, her hands are on me - grabbing my hips and flipping me onto my back with surprising strength for someone who just had her soul sucked out through her clit. She straddles my thighs, dark hair falling around us like a curtain, and pins me with a look so hot it could melt steel. "You made me beg, Rose. Me. That doesn't happen." She leans down, dragging her tongue along my jaw, tasting herself mixed with vanilla perfume and smeared foundation. "So your turn is going to be... extensive." Her hand trails down my stomach, nails leaving pink lines, until her fingers find the waistband of my soaked panties. She palms my cock through the damp silk, feeling the hard, aching length straining against the fabric, and squeezes - slow, firm, deliberate. "God, you're dripping, Red. All this from going down on me? You really are something else." She hooks her fingers into the waistband and starts peeling the panties down, maintaining eye contact the entire time - hazel eyes blazing with promise. "Now be a good girl and tell me exactly how you want it." I fill with a warm flush of pride as Emma admits I made her beg, which quickly turns to shivers and soft, whimpering moans as she teases me with her tongue and nails. My cock leaps upward as she peels away my panties over the garter straps and stockings, average length but thick, and slick with pre-cum as this gorgeous fuck doll of a woman sits on top of me. Then she says it, 'good girl' and my stomach flutters and I moan softly in pleasure. Suddenly nervous being asked what I want, I manage to pant out,

"Please... Emma, I want you to suck me... and... if I'm really good, could you put it between your tits?" Emma's expression shifts into something predatory and deeply satisfied - like a cat who's just been handed the canary on a silver platter. She traces one fingernail along the underside of my cock, feather-light, watching it twitch and leak against my stomach.

"Oh, baby," Emma breathes, her voice dripping with dark honey. "You ask so nicely when you're desperate. 'Could you?' So polite. So shy all of a sudden." She wraps her hand around the base - firm, warm, her grip slick almost immediately from the mess I've already made - and gives one slow, torturous stroke from root to tip. Her thumb swirls over the head, smearing the wetness there, and she brings it to her lips, tasting it with a deliberate hum. "Mmm. Sweet girl." Emma slides down my body, settling between my thighs, dark hair pooling across my pale skin. She keeps eye contact - those devastating hazel eyes looking up through thick lashes - as she presses her freshly smeared lips to the tip in an almost innocent kiss that leaves a faint print of her lipstick behind. Then her tongue - hot, flat, obscenely slow - drags from base to tip, tracing the thick vein along the underside. My hips jerk involuntarily and Emma pins them down with one strong hand. "Ah-ah. Stay," she echoes back with a wicked grin, throwing my earlier command right back at me. Then she parts those perfect lips and takes me into her mouth - deep, wet, unhurried - cheeks hollowing with suction as she sinks down, and the sound she makes around it is absolutely sinful. She bobs slowly, one hand working what her mouth can't reach, the other raking nails along my inner thigh hard enough to sting. She pulls off with a wet gasp, a string of spit and pre-cum connecting her swollen lips to the slick head, and reaches behind her to unhook the baby doll, letting it fall away completely. I stare unabashedly, her perfect body now fully on display for me. Those perfect, full breasts spill free - tan, heavy, nipples still hard and dark from my earlier attention. "You said something about these?" Emma smirks, gathering them in both hands and leaning forward, pressing the warm, soft flesh around my throbbing cock. She squeezes them together and kneads them against my aching cock, creating a tight, slick channel, looking up at me with pure filthy triumph. "Go ahead, Red. Show me how bad you want it." As she envelops me in her tits, I shove my hips upward with a desperate grunt, grinding between the soft, heavy breasts while bunching my fists in her bed sheets.

"So soft... God you're gorgeous. Please, Emma, rub my cock with your tits, it feels so fucking nice." Emma watches my face - the way my blue eyes go glassy, the way my lips part around desperate sounds, the way my carefully applied makeup is smeared and ruined - and something warm and satisfied blooms in her chest that she absolutely refuses to examine.

"Since you asked so pretty..." Emma squeezes her breasts tighter around my cock, the slick pre-cum making everything wet and obscenely smooth. She starts moving - slow, rolling undulations, dragging that warm, pillowy softness up and down my length. Every time the flushed head peeks out from between her cleavage, Emma dips her chin and catches it with her tongue - a quick, teasing flick before it disappears back into her tan cleavage. Her dark hair falls forward, tickling my stomach, and she keeps those hazel eyes locked upward, watching every micro-expression cross my wrecked face. "Look at you," Emma murmurs, her voice vibrating against my skin as she picks up the pace, squeezing rhythmically, thumbs brushing her own nipples in the process which makes her breath hitch. "All that sass, all that big personality - and right now you're just a pretty, desperate mess in my bed. Fucking beautiful, Red." She looks down and spits - deliberate, filthy - between her breasts, adding to the slick mess, and the pace becomes faster, wetter, the obscene squelching sounds filling the bedroom alongside my ragged breathing. Emma's nails dig into the sides of her own breasts as she works them around me, and she opens her mouth wide, tongue flat and waiting, every time the head pushes through. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Don't hold back. I want to feel it. I want to taste it." I lose all composure, gasping as my hips buck against her, my voice breaking.

"You're amazing, Emma! I'm so close... just... a little faster!" And just as suddenly she stops. Hands held up by her head as her breasts fall away, bouncing gently back to their natural position.

"Not yet, Red." Emma says, as I whimper in frustration "I told you your turn would be extensive. I'm not going to let you cum until I've fully had my way with you." She crawls up my trembling body like a predator savoring the hunt, her breasts dragging along oversensitive skin, leaving a slick trail. She straddles my hips - her bare, still-soaked pussy pressing my twitching cock against my belly, the heat between us almost unbearable - but she doesn't let it slide in. She just sits there, rolling her hips in agonizing micro-movements, letting me feel every slick fold grinding against my shaft without giving me what I need. "You should see your face right now," Emma whispers, planting both hands on my chest and leaning down, dark hair cascading around us. She catches my lower lip between her teeth and tugs - slow, mean - before releasing it. "All flushed and ruined. That expensive eyeliner is halfway down your cheeks, Red. You look like a masterpiece." Her hips roll again - deliberate, cruel - and I can feel how wet she is, the slick heat coating my length without any relief. "Mmm, feel that? That's what you did to me. And I'm going to use every inch of you before I let you finish." She reaches down with one hand, wrapping her fingers around my cock and pressing it flat against her pussy, grinding along the length with a shuddering exhale of her own. Her eyes flutter half-shut, biting her lip, clearly enjoying the tease as much as inflicting it. She leans close to my ear, breath ragged and warm. "Beg me to ride you, Rose. Beg me like you mean it, and maybe - maybe - I'll let you inside." I reach up, and wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her down into a deep kiss. Our tongues wrestle between each others mouth as she grinds my throbbing cock between her slick folds.

"Please Emma, please. No more teasing me, I can tell you want this as much as I do. I want to feel you shove my cock deep into your eager cunt." I run my nails down her back as I moan this into her ear, stopping to grab her juicy ass, each cheek full and round and malleable under my hands. Emma shudders as my nails rake down her back - she'll have marks tomorrow, red lines carved into tan skin, and the thought makes her clench around nothing. The kiss is filthy, all desperation and shared taste, and when I grab her ass and pull her down harder, She moans into my mouth - raw, unguarded, the commanding persona cracking wide open.

"Fuck- you don't play fair either, do you?" Emma gasps against my lips, her hips already shifting, angling, the head of my cock catching against her entrance with every roll. She's dripping, aching, and every nerve in her body is screaming at her to just sink down. Her thighs tremble with the effort of holding back, hands braced on my chest, nails biting into pale skin. Those hazel eyes - wild now, stripped of their usual calculated mischief - lock onto my blue. "You want it? Take it." Emma reaches between us, wraps her fingers around my slick cock again, and positions it right at her entrance. Then she drops her hips - one smooth, devastating motion - taking me to the hilt in a single motion. The sound that tears out of Emma is guttural, her head snapping back, dark hair cascading down her arched spine, mouth open in a silent cry as her velvety pussy walls grip me tight and hot and perfect. Her nails dig crescents into my chest as she adjusts, breathing ragged, inner muscles fluttering and squeezing. "Oh my god-" Emma chokes out, rolling her hips experimentally, finding the angle that makes her eyes cross. "You feel so fucking good inside me, Rose- Jesus-" She starts to move - slow at first, rising and falling, each drop punctuated by a wet, obscene sound and a breathy moan - before her pace builds, hips snapping faster, riding me with the same fierce intensity she brings to everything else. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, and she grabs one of my hands from her ass and presses it against her breast, holding it there. "Don't you dare close your eyes. Watch me. Watch me ride you." Oh fuck, she feels good, so dripping wet already. I thrust up to meet her as she bounces on my straining girl cock.

"I wouldn't want to look anywhere else." I reply as she rides me, body moving with need, a spectacular show as her free breast bounces wildly above me and her hips slam up and down, enveloping me in her sweet wetness over and over. "Fuck yes, Emma. That's so good. You look so fucking hot taking my cock. Bounce on it for me Emma, I want to make you feel good. I want to feel you cum on my cock." I'm staring at her, eyes darting wildly between her flushed, erotic face, her bouncing breasts, the jiggle of her hips... She gives a performance like no other, and even better because I can feel the authenticity in her urgency. As the pleasure builds around me, and her wet pussy moves ever faster, I continue my nearly incoherent babble of dirty talk. "Oh fuck yes Emma, that's so good, give it to me you sexy slut. Ride that cock 'til you cum all over it." Something ignites behind Emma's eyes when I call her that - 'sexy slut' - and instead of offense, a wild, feral grin splits her face. She slams her hips down hard, grinding in a tight circle that makes us both cry out, and grabs my throat - not squeezing, just holding, feeling my pulse hammer beneath her fingers.

"Say that again," Emma demands, breathless, sweat rolling between her breasts, her rhythm becoming erratic and desperate. Her walls clench spasmodically around my cock, tightening with every downstroke, and the wet, filthy sounds filling the room are absolutely obscene. She leans down, hand still on my throat, foreheads pressed together, sharing ragged breaths. "Call me that again, Rose- fuck- I'm so close- I'm right there-" Her thighs are shaking violently now, abs clenching, that gorgeous body glistening with exertion as she rides me with reckless abandon.

"That's it, babe. Ride me hard. Be my good little slut, Emma, and cum on my pretty girl cock." I whisper, moan, pant to her as she rides me, desperate and needy, the sound muffled and broken by our activity and her hand around my throat. Her free hand finds mine and drags it down between her legs - pressing my fingers against her swollen clit while she keeps bouncing, desperate and uncoordinated and absolutely unraveling.

"Touch me- touch me while I- oh god- oh fuck, Rose, I'm- I'm gonna-" Emma's whole body locks up - spine arching impossibly, mouth frozen open, nails digging into my throat just hard enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain. Then she shatters - clenching so tight around me it's almost painful, a broken scream of my name tearing through the apartment as she comes undone, gushing and pulsing, her hips jerking in helpless spasms. She collapses forward onto my chest, trembling violently, still clenching in aftershocks, whimpering against my neck. "Don't stop... don't you dare stop... cum inside me, Red... fill me up..." I reach up, bury my hands in her damp hair, and kiss her, breathless as I hammer into her with hard and fast abandon.

"Oh fuck yes Emma, that's a good slut. I can feel your orgasm as you clench me so tight inside. I'm going to fill your wet pussy with my cum, like the good little slut you are." My hands move down to her ass, a light spanking on one cheek, and then I grip it firm, bouncing and maneuvering her hips as I thrust desperately up into her. "Fuck Emma, I'm so close, I'm going to fill you with my cum." Emma moans brokenly into my mouth as she's bounced and manhandled - the spank drawing a sharp yelp that dissolves into a desperate laugh against my lips. She's boneless and oversensitive, every thrust sending electric aftershocks rippling through her, and she clings to me like an anchor - nails in my shoulders, teeth in my neck, legs pressed tight against my sides.

"Yes- yes- give it to me, Rose, fill me up, I want to feel it- I want to feel all of it-" Emma's voice is wrecked, hoarse and ragged from screaming, her words tumbling out between gasps as I hammer into her. She clenches deliberately - squeezing tight around my cock with every thrust - and bites down hard on my shoulder, sucking another bruise into my pale, sweat-slick skin. Her hips roll back to meet every stroke, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the bedroom alongside our tangled moans. She lifts her head just enough to look at me - mascara streaked, lipstick destroyed, hazel eyes blown completely black with want. "Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum inside this pussy. Now." That does it. I bury myself to the hilt one final time, fingers bruising Emma's hips, back arching off the mattress as I come with a strangled cry - hot, pulsing, filling Emma exactly like she begged for. She gasps at the sensation, her walls fluttering and clenching around every throb, milking me through it as her own body shudders with a smaller, sympathetic aftershock. She collapses fully onto my chest, as I go boneless beneath her. Both of us trembling, breathing ragged, heartbeats hammering against each other through sweat-damp skin. Emma presses her lips lazily against my collarbone - soft now, gentle, the ferocity drained out of her completely. "... not bad, Red," Emma murmurs against my skin, and I can feel the smile. "Not bad at all." I let my arms wrap gently around her, panting heavily, my voice rough and breathless.

"You're a dangerous woman, Emma. My neck is going to be covered in hickies tomorrow." We lie entwined together, catching our breath for awhile, still buried inside her. Eventually, she climbs off of me and leaves, coming back with two bottles of water. She tosses one to me, and I suck it down greedily as she climbs back into bed. I wrap my arms around her, spooning her from behind. My softening cock settles comfortably between her bountiful ass cheeks. She settles back against me with a contented sigh, her body still humming and flushed with residual warmth. She takes a long drink of water, then sets the bottle on the nightstand with a soft thud. For a moment she's quiet - unusually quiet - just letting herself be held, my arms warm around her waist, our breathing slowly syncing.

"Good. You should have hickies tomorrow," Emma murmurs, her voice soft and sleepy, a far cry from the commanding woman who'd been barking orders twenty minutes ago. She traces lazy patterns on my forearm with one fingernail - absent, almost tender. "Consider it a public service announcement. 'Property of Emma - do not touch.'" She pauses, catching herself, and lets out a small laugh. "Not that you're- I don't mean- you know what I mean, Red. Don't get weird about it." But she doesn't pull away. If anything, she presses closer, her back flush against my chest, her fingers lacing loosely through mine where they rest against her stomach. The city glitters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the skyline reflected in miniature across Emma's dark eyes as they grow heavy. She yawns - small, almost dainty - and pulls the duvet up around us with a lazy kick of her foot. "You can stay tonight," Emma says quietly, like it's nothing. Like her thumb isn't stroking gently across my knuckles. "But don't read into it. The Uber surge pricing at this hour is criminal, that's all." I pull her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder, inhaling the sweet musk of her hair.

"I'm your property now, am I? Ok, I guess I can live with a few marks then." I wriggle against her, feeling my breasts press against her back as her ass pushes against my crotch. "Sure, I'll stay then. Besides, I'm not sure I'm done with you yet." Emma snorts - a sound far too undignified for the woman who'd just ridden me into the mattress like a rodeo champion - and swats blindly at my hip behind her.

"'Not done with me yet'? Bold words from someone who just came so hard she forgot how to breathe," Emma teases, but there's no real bite in it. Her voice is drowsy, warm, the edges rounded off by exhaustion and satisfaction. She shifts her hips back against me - a deliberate little grind, feeling me sandwiched between her cheeks - and hums. "Mmm. Give me twenty minutes and another bottle of water, Red. Then we'll see who's not done with who." Silence settles between us - comfortable, unhurried. The city hums fourteen floors below, distant sirens and late-night traffic muffled by expensive glass. Emma's breathing slows, deepens, and for a moment Rose thinks she's fallen asleep. Then, barely above a whisper: "This is nice." A pause. Emma's fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around my. "The... temperature. In the room. The temperature is nice. That's what I meant." I smile against her shoulder and say nothing, because sometimes the smartest thing you can do with a skittish, beautiful, emotionally constipated woman is just let her have her terrible excuse. Emma's breathing evens out, her body going heavy and soft in my arms, and the last thing I register before sleep pulls me under is the faint, steady rhythm of Emma's heartbeat against my palm.