Emilia’s foot slid against his length again as the skirt inched upward. She swallowed hard as skin brushed against skin. He turned, one knee resting on the floor, the other on the couch. Both her feet worked his cock slowly, rubbing up and down as he leaned over her.
“Tell any of us no,” Milo said to her as Emilia burned so fucking hot, “and we’ll stop. So tell it to me now. Tell me you don’t want me to keep sliding this skirt up so I can finger your pussy until you come all over my hand.”
“I want you to fuck me,” Emilia whispered, her feet letting him go.
He moved up further on the couch between her thighs, and for a moment, she thought he’d do it, thought he’d fuck her. Milo leaned down to kiss her, his hunger driving his lips against hers once, twice, three times. Fast, but not without passion. The skirt came up to her thighs as he turned his head to whisper in her ear, “You don’t get that yet. When we fuck you, we’ll all take you. One by one, and then all at once.”
The thought, the mere image, rocked Emilia so hard the pleasure burst from her core all the way up and down her spine. She came, and he’d done nothing more erotic than rub her feet and tell her what they were going to do to her.
“Milo,” she gasped, her back lifting and dropping. “Ohhhh, Milo, please, I need it, I want you.”
“You came,” he murmured against her lips.
“Uh huh,” she panted.
“You were fucking beautiful. I’m going to make you do it again.”
He chuckled throatily and kissed her. His hand slid under her skirt, and for the briefest of moments, he paused and drank her in. Emilia blushed under his scrutiny, her hands rising to his cheeks, tracing the fine lines of his beautiful face.
“I’m glad it’s you first,” she murmured, and leaned up to kiss him with far more gentleness than they’d shown each other up to that point.
His fingers slid along the length of the barely-there black thong she slipped on when she changed out of her hose. Emilia had known the moment she saw him in the driveway how this was going to go. How she wanted it to go. She desperately wanted Milo to fuck her, but the anticipation of all three boys — men, she reminded herself — at once was so much she still quivered thinking about it.
He traced her thick lips. The thong was so tiny it couldn’t hide her sex, only prevent his fingers from slipping into her core.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he said, staring into her eyes. “Do you know that, Mrs. Candless? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking you?”
“Nnnn,” she moaned. His thumb ran down the middle of her slit and she wrapped her arms around him, lining every inch of his chin with her lips.
“The hottest mom I’ve ever seen, and your pussy’s mine. Isn’t it?”
“Yours!” she gasped as his thumb slid back up, resting against her clit.
“My best friend’s mom,” he said, and dropped his lips to hers again as he stroked her clit.
The intensity of her first orgasm had barely left Emilia, and she was already so very sensitive. The expert way his fingers moved kept her on that edge. Boy? Had she really been thinking of Milo as a boy? Men used their fingers like this. Not even Jim, after twenty years of marriage, could manipulate her pussy so easily Milo’s fingers danced, and her body danced with him.