Q is for quickie
There is a time and a place for slow and considered but there is also a time and a place and most definitely an urge for sometimes things to be more rushed than that. For the joy that is a quickie.
Quick and urgent
No slow undressing or mouths on cocks or cunts just a needy coupling. The urge to fuck the driving force. His need to be in me. My need to have him in me cancelling out anything else.
His mouth on mine as I claw to unbutton his shirt. Giving up half way when my fingers meet the waist band of his trousers and belt. His hand pulling up my skirt, dragging it up over my thighs until it is rumpled around my hips and waist. Fingers dragging my knickers down just enough. Just enough to give him access.
His belt is undone and I am pulling at the button on his trousers. beneath my fingertips his hardness is pressing through the fabric. I stroke him through the material and he expels a little hiss of need up against my neck before biting down making it my turn to gasp.
Then he is roughly turning me towards the wall and pulling at the back of my skirt, raising it up over the curve of my arse and between our bodies I can feel him fumbling with his zip and then he is kicking my legs apart. If I wasn’t turned on before that one simple act demonstrating his intention ensures that I am now. I arch my back and my hands instinctively come to the wall to brace myself and then he is spitting into his hand and wiping it round the head of his dick before pressing it up against the wet slit of my cunt. Then in one decisive unforgiving move driving his flesh deep into mine.
We fuck, urgent and hard. Delighting in the intensity of it. Fulfilling that aching need we both have for this, for each other.
He comes with a groan in the heat of my cunt, burying himself balls deep within me and just holding himself there. His body pressed up tight against mine and then he relaxes and slides from my body leaving me empty. I press my forehead against the wall and catch my breath. I can hear him behind me fixing his clothes and then he is leaning into me, his breath warm on my neck as he tugs my knickers up and me skirt down.
“Come on woman. We are late and everyone will be waiting”
“Don’t worry” I reply as I grab my coat, “They will understand when I tell them we were having a quickie”
And he laughs and takes my hand and it’s only when we get there and I tell everyone why we are late that he realises I wasn’t joking.
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