She told me her name was Frankie and that she was sixteen. I laughed and told her that was a boy's name. She's warm and soft and, Christ, her tits are tiny buds – like maybe she just got them.
"Are you really sixteen, sugar?" She's above me, riding my cock. My thumbs drag across each stiff peak and I tug. I wouldn't care if she was fifteen. I've wanted this little honeyfuck in my bed since I saw her riding her bike in the neighborhood, tiny shorts and a bandana in her hair.
"Ung…" she grunts. I've rendered her speechless.
My hand skims up her chest and around her neck. She's riding me faster, dragging her clit against me when her hips glide upward. I skim my fingers lightly down her jaw and I push two into her mouth. Instantly, her walls tighten around me and my hips buck harder.
She's close, and so am I.
"Fuck, baby, you feel so good. So tight."
"Oh, God… Oh… What… Fuck," she screams as her walls flutter and clench around me. Two more rough, deep thrusts and I'm spilling all I have into her.
I wonder if she's done this before.