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Chanel and I sit side by side in our favorite booth at Lucky’s, eating calamari and prepping for an upcoming trip to see her parents. Our faces are close enough to hear each other over the din.
“What do you think? Spring for business class?” Chanel takes a delicate bite off her fork to avoid smudging her lipstick. “You hate those tiny seats.”
“We don’t have enough for nice seats and Coachella. I can deal with the leg room.”
“Are you sure? You were limping for a full day the last time we flew.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s only a two-hour flight.”
“If you say so…”
She dramatically rolls her eyes at me and takes a sip of her vodka-cran. I burst out laughing.
“What?”
“I better not hear you bitching about how bad your legs hurt when we’re in California. I’m not listening to it.”
“I’m sacrificing my body so we can have a dope time at a festival. That should get me wife-of-the-year status.”
“Well. When you say it like that, I sound like an asshole.”
“Yup.”
We kiss unnoticed amidst the chaos of the bar. I put my hand on her inner thigh denizli escort and slowly move it up. The music cuts out.
“Last call to enter the Hot 106.8 twerking contest,” the DJ drones. “Grand prize is $1,000, see your bartender to sign up.”
I tap excitedly on Chanel’s leg.
“It’s a booty miracle! You should enter!”
“Girl, please. You are out of your damn mind.”
“Why not? You can beat any of these bitches.”
“I’m not jiggling my ass for a roomful of strangers.”
“What’s the difference between dancing in the club and doing it on stage? Except if you do it on stage, we’ll be sipping champagne in business class this time next week.”
Chanel smiles and shakes her head affectionately.
“How do you always talk me into this stuff?”
I boop the tip of her nose.
“Because I’m always right.”
Chanel and I stumble out of the Uber hours later and laugh our way into the apartment. We toss our coats on the couch. I sweep her up in my arms and spin her in circles.
“Baby, I still cannot believe you killed izmit escort it like that! I was bragging about you to everybody at the bar.”
“I can break it down when I have to. I’m not dead yet.” She pulls me in for a deep, slow kiss. “Want a private show?”
“What are we waiting for?”
We run up the stairs and jump on the bed together. I roll on top of Chanel and kiss her passionately. She pulls off my shirt. I lick her throat all the way up to her chin.
Chanel undresses in a hurry and I do the same. Our clothes fall onto the floor in heaps. I suck her nipples while she grinds her wet pussy against my stomach. I press down on her toned back. Her areolas grow hard and tight.
She squeezes my face between her breasts, and I shake my head back and forth. She massages my scalp and rubs the space behind my ears with her thumbs. I kiss her everywhere.
“How about showing me that prize-winning ass?”
Chanel flashes me a devilish grin and gets on all fours. She sways her back seductively. I gently push her head down. Lightly brush gaziantep escort her body with my fingertips until she’s trembling.
I slap her bottom and watch it shake. She yelps in pleasure. I spank her again and again, picking up speed and force as I go. She squirms on the bed.
“Give me a sec,” I say. “Play with yourself.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I intently watch Chanel masturbate as I step into the strap-on. Cinch it tight. I turn on the egg-shaped vibrator and tuck it between my labia.
“Mmmm. Come back…”
“Almost done. Why don’t you clap that ass for me?”
“Anything you want, mama.”
I lube up and crawl into bed. I lean down to kiss her. I can still taste vodka on her tongue. Her skin shines in the bright light of the room.
I put a hand on each side of her derriere and slide into her pussy from behind. She whimpers like a kitten. I hold on tight and rhythmically pump to the music on the radio. She moans, cries out. I reach down and tease her clitoris.
“Fuck me, Jordan,” Chanel gasps out. “Fuck me, fuck me…”
I start to climax. I rub her harder.
“Cum for me, baby,” I say. “I want to hear you.”
“Oh my God…”
I fall back on the bed next to Chanel, the dildo still jutting out from my crotch. She rests her head on my shoulder. Lays her hand over my heart.
“Hey,” she says. “Wanna have sex in business class?”