Hello all, This is my first ever story on Literotica although I've been a reader and writer for close to ten years now. I hope you all enjoy.
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Edging Practice (1)
She was more than likely a nympho, though she declined the title, the inclination to come was unavoidable. Emerie often found herself lying in the recesses of her climax, thinking about the same thing over and over: why couldn't she go without?
At the tender age of nineteen, the concept of resistance and discipline was alien to her. Her parents were wealthy and spared no expense, and her impressionable looks had made life that much easier for her; luscious locks of tawny brown hair, and doe-like blue eyes would have been enough, but the addition of her high cheekbones and shapely figure had created a killer compound that few could say "no" to.
At the present moment, she had just finished exploding on her best friend's cock. Spent, she laid on his chest, listening to his rapidly beating heart.
"How was that?" Declan asked, an extra layer of eagerness lilting his breathless voice.
Emerie declined to answer and removed herself from his body, beginning to put her clothes back on. It was always so easy for her to come, almost too easy-- the excitement, the thrill, the want for it was beginning to wane.
"At a loss for words?" Declan smirked, looking down at his soaked appendage. There was nothing more satisfying to him than seeing the slimy wetness coat his cock after each time they fucked. She always came for him, wettest pussy out of the whole college.
Still refusing to answer, Emerie slipped out of Declan's bedroom and made to bound down the steps when Declan's father emerged from his own bedroom. Emerie, for once, took notice of the fact that Declan looked a lot like his dad. They both had dark hair, although the older of the two had gray speckles in his, and light eyes. Where Declan's face was usually bare, his father's was dressed in a five o'clock shadow. And perhaps the main difference between the two, was their build; Declan had always been more lean and muscular, having more of a swimmer's physique, but his father was bigger. Wider around the shoulders and chest, almost stocky. Not her type at all.
"Hey, Em. On your way out?"
Knocked out of her game of comparison, Emerie shrugged, "Yeah...I'm calling it a night."
"Let me walk you to your car, it's dark out already."