The air in the dressing room was still thick with the heat of our reckless sex, the scent of Sara’s perfume and our mingled juices from orgasms hanging heavy around us.
The sudden *knock, knock* from moments ago still echoed in my mind, and my heart pounded as I stared at the door, frozen in place.
"Ohh sh—" I started, my voice barely a whisper, panic rising at the thought of the waitress barging in.
"Hello, Miss Sara?" the waitress’s voice came again from the other side, polite but carrying a slight edge of urgency.
Before I could finish my curse, Sara propped herself up on one elbow on the plush white couch, her bridal gown still bunched around her waist, her skin flushed and glowing.
"Yes, what is it?" she called, her tone sharp, like the interruption was a personal offense.
The waitress hesitated, her voice muffled through the door. "Miss Sara, the guests in the hall are waiting for you. How much time will it take for the preparations?"
Sara rolled her eyes, a flicker of irritation crossing her face as she glanced at me, her lips curling into a teasing smile.
"They can wait," she said, her voice dripping with defiance. "I’m not walking out there looking anything less than perfect, so tell them to be patient." Her tone was almost bratty, like she was daring the world to rush her.
I stood there, my open shirt hanging off my shoulders, still trying to process how we’d ended up here. Sara’s smile widened as she looked at me, her eyes glinting with mischief, like she was enjoying the thrill of almost getting caught.
"Alright, Miss," the waitress replied, her voice calm but professional. "I’ll let them know it’ll take a bit longer for preparations."
I let out a shaky sigh, my shoulders relaxing as I heard the faint *tap, tap* of the waitress’s heels retreating down the hallway. The immediate danger was gone, but my pulse was still racing, my mind a mess of guilt and adrenaline.
"Yes, please," Sara called after her, her voice softer now but still edged with annoyance.
She turned back to me, her hands reaching up to cup my cheeks, her fingers warm against my skin. "Where were we?" she murmured, leaning in, her lips brushing mine in a hungry, impatient kiss.
"Miss, if you need any help, just give us a call," the waitress added from outside, her voice fainter now but still cutting through the moment.
"Yes, now please go," Sara snapped, her irritation flaring again as she pulled back just enough to glare at the door.
The sound of the waitress’s footsteps faded completely, and Sara didn’t waste a second. She grabbed my face, pulling me into a deep kiss, her lips moving against mine with a need that made my head spin.
She shifted, climbing onto my lap, straddling my groin, her naked big boobs pressing against my chest through my open shirt, her gown still bunched around her stomach, exposing her entirely.
I fumbled with the last button of my shirt, yanking it off my arms and tossing it aside, leaving me fully naked. Sara’s hands roamed over my chest, her touch igniting every nerve as she pressed herself closer, her wet pussy rubbing against my dick, up and down, teasing the hardness that was already building again.
The sensation was electric, her slick heat against me driving me wild, and I groaned softly, my hands gripping her hips to steady her.
"God, Sara..." I muttered, my voice rough as her pussy moved against dick, her thighs straddling me tightly. "You’re gonna kill me."
She laughed, a low, sultry sound, her lips brushing my ear. "Good," she whispered, her hips grinding harder, her pussy sliding against me with deliberate intent.
"I want you to feel me, Ezra. Every second of this." Her hands slid up to my shoulders, nails digging in just enough to send a shiver through me, and I could feel the heat of her.
Sara straddled me on the plush white velvet couch, "Ahh... give me, Ezra..." she murmured, her voice thick with need as she pushed herself up, her hands finding my dick, gently stroking and feeling its hardness.
She positioned my cock beneath her hole, her fingers guiding my dick to her slick, hot pussy, and then she sank down, taking my dick in fully with one slow, deliberate motion.
"Ahh..." I moaned, the sensation of her slippery warm vagina enveloping my cock sending a shudder through my body.
She was tight, her pussy gripping me in a way that made my head spin, and I gripped her ass, my fingers digging into her soft skin.
"Ohh... yeahh..." Sara gasped, her voice breaking into a satisfied moan as she settled onto me.
She reached up, pulling the delicate silver tiara from her head and tossing it onto the nearby vanity with a soft clink. Her dark hair tumbled free, cascading over her shoulders in wild waves as she shook it out, her eyes glinting with a bold, untamed energy.
"That’s better," she said, a wicked smile curving her lips as she leaned forward, her boobs brushing against my face.
"Man... you’re gonna make me lose it," I said, my voice rough, my eyes locked on her swaying balls. Her beauty, her boldness, the way she moved—it was all too much, pushing me to the edge of control.
"Then lose it," she whispered, her hands sliding up to grip my neck, pulling me into a deep, hungry kiss.
Her lips were soft but demanding, her tongue teasing mine as she started to move, rocking her hips against me, my dick sliding in and out of her hole with each motion.
The couch creaked faintly beneath us, the velvet cushions sinking under our weight.
I grabbed her ass, my hands squeezing the soft curves as I pulled her closer, guiding her movements to match the rhythm she’d set.
"Fuck, Sara..." I groaned against her lips, my voice muffled as she kissed me harder, her body pressing tight against mine. We found a pace, her hips grinding down on my lap as I thrust my dick up, our bodies locked in a desperate, sitting fuck on that oversized couch.
"Ezra... yes..." she moaned, breaking the kiss to tilt her head back, her hair spilling over her shoulders as she rode me. Her hands slid down to my chest, nails grazing my skin.
"Don’t hold back... give me everything," she said, her voice low and sultry, her eyes half-lidded but burning with desire.