Ficly

Top Dog

He was startled at first, but the wine warmed him and I kept kissing him gently, nibbling his earlobe, teasing him, luring him. He reached around me, his arms warm and strong, his eyes heavy lidded.

I climbed off his lap and led him to the bed. His pants were stiff with his excitement.
“No, we shouldn’t..” he slurred.
“What? No one will know.” I removed his clothes, continuing to kiss erogenous zones and stimulate his engorged manhood. He groaned but obediently followed my lead.

I undressed myself, his drunken limbs were no help. I shoved him down on the bed and kissed him passionately. Instinct took over. Pleasure drove our every move, desire navigating through hormones and pheromones with expertise.

We moved faster, colliding harder, feeling every nerve tingle with sensation, cascading together in waves with tighter rhythms until it was one long exasperating explosion of ecstacy.

We were both breathless and sweaty. He passed out within moments. Success.

I was the top dog now.

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