“I have a boyfriend,” she said when I put my hands on her tits and groped her over her shirt.
She kept kissing me, as I felt those globes I’d been staring at pictures of for so long, as she teased me on email, feeling the nipples rise up to meet my palms between two layers of fabric.
She kept kissing me as I pulled her t-shirt up and put my hands behind her back to unhook her bra.
“Seriously, I have a boyfriend,” she pulled back to say sternly, as I pushed the wire up over her tits, dragging them across the nipples, which sprung out further, my fingers digging into the soft skin above the nipples and closing around it.
I covered her mouth with mine before she could say it again.
Slight moaning coming from her mouth as I toyed with her nipple. I pulled her shirt off over her head to the most cursory of protests. Her breasts warm to the touch as I lifted one to my mouth, then the other, her head back, allowing me to bite and suck and lick them all over.
“I shouldn’t do this. I do have a boyfriend,” she said slowly. Her nipples betraying her true desires.
A hand inside her waistband. Her hand on my wrist.
“Don’t,” she says, leaning back so I can get down inside her pants.
The warmth welcoming me down. Shifting, adjusting, turning our bodies so I could rub her wetness and spread it north to the spot that made her shiver.
“You’re awful,” she cooed as my hand swirled and pressed into her soft flesh, as she half-stood to pull her jeans and panties off.
Her naked body rising and falling with her rapid breath.
“I. Have. A. Boy. Friend,” she whispered into my ear as her hand reached into my zipper, fighting the tension my bugling cock made against it. Pulling it out, wrapping her cold hands around it, working the length of it, smearing my excitement over the head.
My hands off her, removing what was left of my clothes.
“Oh no, I promised him,” she said, sliding under me, spreading her legs.
Taking my cock into her hand and guiding me in. My body pressed into her silken skin. She smelled floral and woody. Like flowers in the park.
All the way inside her, pumping and having my way. A hand on my chest, over my shoulder, on my back, pulling at my skin, clawing me. Arching my back, looking into her eyes, watery, half-shut. Her tits shaking with each thrust.
“Don’t you cum in me, I have a boyfriend,” she moaned, sliding a hand to her clit.
The back of that hand pressed down into my pelvis with each thrust.
A chant of “give it to me,” escaping her lips.
“Fill me,” she moaned as her pussy spasmed around my cock.
Wanting to fill her up, punish her, my hand on the back of th couch, supporting me as I pumped her full of cum, staring at her as she grunted “yes, fuck me like he doesn’t. Give me that cum, please.”
I resisted the urge to say something smartass when I left her. But we both knew she could keep her boyfriend.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/ayfd2a/ill_steal_your_honey_like_i_stole_your_bike_str8
I came for the Beastie Boys reference, stayed for the sex. A+