Spontaneous Lust

Victor couldn't rein in that eager dick of his, yet who even expects him to? Not when Felicia's always soaked through her thong, ready before he finishes the thought. They're not dating, they're detonating. Beds? Cute idea, but so last week. Today the game board itself became the plaything. Dice flew, cardboard tore, and fifteen minutes later she had both soles greased, straddling his lap with those red-painted toes locked around his cock like they'd filed their own complaints. Slow deliberate strokes, a little ankle twist at the top just to hear him suck air through his teeth, faster when she wanted an encore groan. The match lay forgotten beneath their hips while Victor jerked and spilled slick across her arches and the scoring pad alike. Spontaneous rule number one: wipe the board with the loser, not the towel.