The Lion, The Wench, and The Wardrobe (1)

‘We’re going to get caught..’ I state in a barely audible whisper as we rumble around in the coat check room at the after party of the Lion’s victory over the Cubs. We tumble against patented leather, Dior, and Prada belongings as we ironically tear through each other’s clothes to reach that most desirable flesh.

You press me up against the wall of the closet and I can feel you hard beneath your jeans. You run your hand up my bare thigh and slip it under my Anthropology skirt to finger the lacy black French cut panties I’m wearing. As you glide your fingers past the lace barrier and slip them into my wet, awaiting cunt I grasp your hair and my lips hungrily seek out yours as a moan bubbles up from my throat. You gently swirl your fingers inside me, exploring the deepest sections of my core and begin to rub your thumb over my swollen clit. My breath catches and my knees go weak. You press me harder against the wall to keep us upright. I can feel the beginnings of an orgasm swell within me and I rest my head against the wall as my nails rake down your muscled back. All the while your fingers explore within me like harbingers scouting new land. Your thumb moves faster, and faster, and my orgasm builds and builds until I can’t take it anymore and I release in a white hot flash of pleasure, and a blaring scream bursts from my lips.

I collapse against you and state again,

‘We’re going to get caught’

To be continued……

XOXO

The Phoenix