"Are You Free Tonight?"

Brett Tyner emerged from the bathroom, partially dressed, and headed to the remainder of his clothes laid out across the floor where they'd been stripped from his body. He donned and adjusted his tie, then looked to the red head lying atop the bed's covers, still naked and simply staring at him with a satisfied smirk. He returned the smile, then asked softly, "What...?"

She shrugged and asked, "What what?"

"There's something on your mind," he answered, heading for his coats, ready to depart and get home for some well deserved sleep. He'd been putting in fourteen hours days nonstop for three weeks, researching for one of the firm's largest class action suits; yet when she began making eyes at him in the Hotel bar, he couldn't resist moving over to sit on the stool next to her and make a try for her. "I can always tell when someone has something interesting on their mind."

He finished dressing, then turned to face her again; he smiled as he found her cell phone lying between her plentiful breasts and said laughing, "If phone booths were like those..."

"Come here," she cut him off, curling an inviting finger at him. "I have something for you."

"I think you already gave me something, remember?" he said smiling but heading her way anyway. As he approached, he saw her cell phone still on the night stand. He sat beside her and, caressing a hand over her breast, causing her nipples to harden even before he finished asking his next question, took the phone in her cleavage and asked, "What's this?"

"It was no accident that we met," she answered without answering his question at all. When he asked what that meant, she responded, "You were sent to me."

He studied her for a moment, oblivious to her meaning.

"Your friend, Becky ... owns that chain of espresso stands...?"

Brett felt the blood run from his face at the mention of the woman he'd been flirting with for weeks, only to finally fuck her and learn, almost immediately afterward, that she was getting married in three weeks.

"First ... how do you know Becky," he asked, trying to hide his guilt for having fucked another man's woman, "and ... what does that have to do with a cell phone?"

"Remember the woman at McCrory's?" she asked, again avoiding answering his question. She touched a finger to her pert nipple and continued, "The brunette with the--"

Brett popped up from the bed, walking around to the foot board and asking harshly, "How the fuck do you know this...? How do you know about these women...? Have you been following me...? Is this a set up...? Who do you work for--?"

She burst out in laughter, her bared breasts jiggling with her heaving chest. When finally she went quiet, she explained with a wide smile, "Relax! There's nothing nefarious going on here. You're not being set up, and I don't work for anyone. You're being interviewed. I'm interviewing you. Or at least, I'm your second interviewer."

He stared at her for a moment, again oblivious to what the woman was trying to tell him.

"The woman at McCrory's," she continued, standing and beginning to wander about, retrieving her clothes, which were also scattered about in their frenzy to make love. "She was your first interviewer. Becky told her you might be a good candidate. Remember the call that night ... from Becky?"

Brett thought back to that night. The woman -- who at just 24 had a string of more than two dozen walk up espresso stands -- had called him that afternoon, begging to see him to explain herself; but then, almost before the bartender had brought him his first drink, he'd received a text from Becky saying she couldn't make it, and that they should each just go their own ways and treasure the pleasure they'd had with one another. It had been a bit flowery, he thought at the time, for a Dear John text, particularly since they'd only fucked that one time; but it had gotten him to McCrory's, where he met the woman with the rings through her nipples and a way with her tongue, so it hadn't been all bad.

"Becky led me there...?" Brett found himself asking, seeing where the woman was leading him. "To ... specifically to meet that woman...?"

She nodded, adding as she cut a path by him for the bathroom, "Yes. And that woman ... she was very impressed with you..."

She stopped beside him, turning and looking up into his eyes, "... as am I."

She continued onward and closed the bathroom door behind her.

Brett stared after her, wanting to know more. He looked to the phone, and seeing it off, energized it. There was nothing particularly special about it; it was just a simple cell phone, not even what was generally thought of as a smart phone. It didn't seem to have the internet, it wasn't a touch screen, and there was no camera lens on the back either.

As if knowing what he was doing, she called out from beyond the door, "Pull up the Contacts List."

Brett did as she told him to do. There screen filled with numbers, which surprised him; when he'd purchased his current smart phone, the only numbers in the Contacts List were 9-1-1 and the speed dials for his Voice Mail and the Service Provider's Customer Service line.

As he scrolled down the list, though, he noticed something odd about the preprogrammed speed dial numbers; that's all they were, just numbers. He was about to ask about the List when she opened the door and emerged, fully dressed except for the nylons, garter belt, and four inch heels. She walked up to him, gestured for the phone, and -- when he gave it to her -- she explained the rules.

"No names ... no commitments. The fewer questions asked, the better. And back on the topic of no ... No means no. Everything must be consensual, and if at any point your partner changes her mind, no still means no. That includes refusing a rendezvous, too. If you don't want to meet someone, you simply and politely say no thank you."

She handed the phone back to him and stepped past him to gather her coat. "If the person you are initiating a contact with says no thank you, you don't ask why. You tell her thank you, next time maybe, and call another number if you wish. You never call that number again, unless she initiates contact with you instead. The person initiating the call ... The Initiator, we call it ... pays for the hotel room." She glanced about her, adding, Something nice like this. Never your own home. Never a public place!"

She dropped her heels to the floor and stepped into them, one after another, still talking. "You speak of the list ... of this phone ... of the Members, to no one ... not even someone else on the list. Anonymity doesn't only mean from the public. It also means within the Membership itself.

She stopped at a full length mirror and checked her appearance. Brett looked her over as well. She was absolutely stunning, just a couple of inches short of six foot in those heels, with all the curves a woman would want to have, or a man would want to have under him in bed.

What she'd been telling him was stunning! He understood it all -- she made it so clear to him -- and yet he had to ask, "These numbers ... they are all to women ... women like you?"

She looked back to him with a quizzical expression. "Like me...?"

He realized that he'd worded that poorly. He hurried in clarifying, "I mean ... well ... I don't know your name."

"I didn't give it to you."

"I know that," he continued, "What I mean is ... I don't know your name. The woman with the ... you know..." Brett gestured a hand before his chest while staring at the incredible nipples pressing forth through the thin fabric of her low cut, high hemline mini-dress. "... I didn't know her name either. I asked, but--"

"She didn't give it," she filled in knowingly. She glanced to the phone, anticipating his next comment. "And they won't give you their names either. And you won't give them yours. That's the rule."

She took one last look in the mirror, then crossed back to him, pressed close, and gave him one last, long, soft, romantic kiss. When there mouths separated, she said, "You want to know why?"

He hesitated, then asked, "Why do you do this?"

She pulled away and began retrieving her purse and other things set about the various tables and dressers. "I'm like any other woman. I like being close to someone. I like men. I like sex. I like intimacy." She turned, stuffing the last of her little things into her purse and looking to him as she finished. "I don't have time for a relationship. I don't have time for dating. Relationships ... they get in the way of what is truly important to me."

Brett nearly asked what exactly that was, what was important to her. He didn't; it really didn't matter.

"I want the intimacy of a relationship ... without all the intricacy of one. I want what we had tonight ... tonight! That's all."

She approached him again and took the phone. Quickly, she tapped out a phone number, lifted the phone to her ear, listened, then pressed the End Call button. "They all know you're an active Member now."

His eyes widened. "All of them...? The whole list?"

She smiled, gave him a peck on the cheek, then turned and strode for the door, calling over her shoulder, "The entire female membership list." She threw open the door, and spun back to look at him -- to look him over -- then said, "I had fun. Hopefully you'll take my call next time ... and--" A wide smile crossed her face. I will be calling."

And she was gone, leaving him standing there unsure of what he was supposed to do next. Did he wait for someone else to call him...? Would someone...? She said they had his number, but without knowing who he was or what he looked like or whether he was good in bed, why would someone choose to call his number at all...?

Maybe he should call someone...? He pressed the button for the Contact List again and looked at the numbers. He put his finger on the key pad ... then pulled it back. You just got fucked! And you're already going to call someone new?

How long should he wait to call someone...? It wasn't like he was calling a new lover for a second roll in the sack. Whoever he called -- assuming that what she'd said about anonymity was true -- would have no idea how long it had been since he last had a rendezvous with another of the club's Members. He could fuck someone new every night. Two a night! Three! He could simply work his way down the list as fast as his libido could handle them.

He lowered the phone and moved to the hotel window, looking out upon the lights of the late night cityscape. It was magical. And tonight, with her, had been magical as well. Fucking your way down the list ... not magical, he told himself. Even if it was just anonymous sex, the way in which it was organized -- the rules about respect for the other Members -- made it more than just cheap gratuitous pleasure. Brett realized that, of course. He couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what this was, but it was far more than just two people getting their jollies in a cheap hotel room.

He looked back into the room. It was anything but cheap. The three encounters he'd had -- What did she call it... a rendezvous? -- were in high end hotel suites with finely dressed women from professional settings; there had been nothing cheap about them, or their rendezvous.

POV: Brett Tyner
(I include this because I will be writing multiple characters.)


Brett had been unable to concentrate for much of the next three days. Twice he'd been chastised for missing basic facts in his research at work; and when the third error came, he found himself in the office of the firm's Senior Partner, being very politely interrogated about whether he was having any personal issues that might need him to take a few days. That, of course, was short hand for unpaid leave, which -- his experience had taught him -- was typically the first step toward outright dismissal.

Brett simply had not decided how to use this new power he'd been granted. It was ...unusual, was a good word, to be able to simply call a phone number and an hour or two later be in bed with a beautiful woman, or at least one that he wasn't paying to be in bed with him.

He'd gone the call girl route once, just to see if he would enjoy having a skilled lover at his command, doing anything and everything he wanted. He'd been satisfied, physically, with the evening, but he hadn't truly enjoyed it, knowing that the pleasure was a one way street; pleasing the woman he was in bed with was simply to important to his ego to be satisfied with a professional whose only satisfaction came from picking up the six hundred dollars he'd set out on the night stand before any clothes had even been shed.

But this ... this was different. One call, and sex was a sure thing. Typically, Brett had to woo a prospective lover with dinners and theater for days or even weeks, or -- if out in the bars looking for a one night stand -- had to at least flirt well, maybe bull shit the woman with some good tales about work or his personal life, before one or the other of them asked the question, "You wanna get out of here?"

It wasn't that he couldn't land a beautiful woman. Brett was a good looking guy, handsome with a better than average physique. Actually, he was practically an Adonis, so -- if he was feeling confident or the woman was as horny as he was -- getting laid wasn't too incredible of a chore for him to complete. But nothing had ever prepared him for the idea that he could simply push the buttons on a phone and be eight inches deep into a previously undiscovered pussy in less time than he and his prospective lover would have to wait for their dinner to arrive at one of the City's overpriced restaurants.

When he returned home that night, Brett had determined a plan. He was going to walk in the door, snatch up the cell, scroll to a random number, and call it. No more jerking around, he'd decided. This was the night he got together with a beautiful but anonymous woman and found pleasure like he had never done before.

He was just reaching for the cell when the ringer went off and the vibrate function causes it to dance across the top of his dresser. He snatched it up and stared at the Caller I'd; all it said was *2989.

It rang five times before he got up the courage to press the Call button and lift it to his face. "Hello...?"

"Are you free tonight?" a deep female voice asked.

Brett froze ... with his mouth wide open but nothing coming out. He'd planned for this all day long, but from the other end of the line. Are you free tonight...? Are you free tonight...? He'd memorized the words and even spoken them out loud several times during the Car ride home, which had baffled the Chauffeur until Brett told him he was practicing his lines for a Community Theater Workshop. But ... he'd never practiced what to say if he himself was asked that very same question.

"Are you free tonight? the voice repeated.

Brett cleared his throat and answered as simply as one could. "Yes."

"Crowne Plaza...?" she asked, "...about eleven?"

Brett glanced quickly to the clock on the night table, then calculated; it was short notice, but he could make it. "Yes. I'll be there. How, um ... how will I know who you are?"

When he didn't get an answer, he looked to the phone's screen and realized she had disconnected. He tossed the phone onto his bed and hurried to shower, shave, call for a Car, dress, and get to the street.

An hour later, he was entering the lobby of the Crowne Plaza, about to start a new chapter in his life.

Haley Johnson

The clock was just turning to 930 as Haley stood outside the Crowne waiting for her date. She'd been seeing this guy for a couple of weeks, and she really liked him so far. He'd been very busy with work the past few days, so she wanted to surprise him with a room at the Crowne that night to get his mind off of things and show him just how much she liked him. But he was supposed to meet her at 9. It'd been a half an hour, and there was no sign of him, not even a phone call. Not wanting to sound desperate she'd waited without calling. I'll give him fifteen more minutes... she told herself as she checked her watch again... Nothing. She picked up the phone and dialed his number, but was confused when a woman answered.

"Um, hi. I'm trying to reach Nick. Who is this?" Haley asked the woman, both confused and worried.

"This is his wife .. who is this?" the woman spat back at her. Horrified Haley quickly hung up the phone and tried to get her emotions under control. How in the world could I have been so stupid?? she scolded herself. She should have seen the signs, noticed something was up. She hadn't slept with him yet, but still, she felt guilty. She hoped his wife would soon enough find out what kind of jerk she was married to.

Feeling sorry for herself and the fact that she'd spent half of this weeks pay check on the nicest room at the Crowne, she began digging through her purse for her keys. She instead came across her other phone. She'd remember when she'd received this phone, after being a hussy for a week and sleeping with three different guys. Little did she know she was being interviewed to become a member of a very exclusive club.

She turned the phone on only to discover that there was a new update to her contact list. Hmm.. a new male member? Could be fun. she thought to herself. It'd been a while since Haley had used this phone, but lord knows she had plenty of experience with it over the past few months. She always loved getting together with the new guys too. They were always so nervous, no matter how 'macho' they thought they were. Her fingers hovered over the button, contemplating her decision.

She hadn't worn a new sexy red dress and her sexy lingerie for nothing; she wanted to get laid tonight. What was the problem taking advantage of her membership. It'd been long enough she decided, and she dialed the newest number on her list.

"Yes. I'll be there. How, um ... how will I know who you are?"

She hung up the phone before laughing to herself. New kids. Must not have paid too much attention to the rules, she thought to herself. He'd learn eventually that he needn't ask questions when called, just simply answer yes or no. And there's no way he would be able to miss her when he arrived. Only the most attractive people were allowed memberships, and by the sound of the voice she heard on the other line, #1266 was going to just as appealing as the two timer who'd stood her up tonight.

She was a little nervous though. It had been a while since she'd used this phone, but thoughts of the earlier days when she'd meet a new guy every night quickly flooded back. She'd even done the interviewing for a few men, giving them the phones and explaining the rules. It was fun for her to bring new men into the club; she enjoyed their somewhat 'innocence' of the situation. They were still amazed that something like this existed ans were eager to explore. That's what Haley loved the most. She smiled, satisfied with her decision to call as she awaited the arrival of her new 'date'.

(OOC -- The pics, obviously, are not in context.)


Brett entered the Crowne Plaza with his mind racing about what was ahead. This was unlike anything he'd ever done before; he'd never even been on a blind date, let alone made arrangements to meet with a woman who, like in the movie of his youth, was a sure thing.

But it was just sex, he reminded himself again and again. It was like meeting a woman at a lounge, talking, flirting, and heading to a hotel room ...except for all of the stuff before heading to a hotel room.

The lobby was practically vacant, with just a Night Concierge and a Bell Hop, each of whom began to make their way forward to offer their assistance but turned back when he gestured he was okay. He looked around, and seeing no one -- let alone a beautiful woman ready to get naked with him -- thought it had all been too good to be true.

He turned -- and there she was ... speed dial 2989. He knew it was her immediately, not just because they seemed to be the only two people awake in the Four Star Hotel, but because of the look she was giving him ...as if they had already met days, weeks, months ago.

She was a beautiful woman, with a shapely figure, flawless face, and blond locks flowing down over her shoulders almost to her full, firm breasts.

Brett smiled, pleased. Even with everything else odd about this new development in his life, he still couldn't have helped but fear that his rendezvous would have been with a real dog. He was tickled pink, then, to find that she was a beautiful, sexy woman who -- in all likelihood -- would have been far from a sure thing if he was meeting her in the hotel lounge on a Saturday night.

As he walked her way, Brett thought about what he'd been told about the Club's rules. Suddenly, he was fearful of looking like a naïve teenager when they met. He tried to remember the highlights of what his final Interviewer had said to him earlier in the week.

No names ... no commitments...

The fewer questions asked, the better...

No means no.

The Initiator pays for the hotel room..

You speak of the phone list to no one ... not even someone else on the list.

It was so simple ...and yet so unimaginably difficult. He would likely never know this woman's name, he would never know anything about her, except, possibly, what would make her scream in ecstasy.

And, of course, he could brag to his buddies about getting fucked by a beautiful stranger, but he could never tell them any specifics -- particularly about the phone and its speed dial numbers -- let alone be seen in public with her on his arm like some sort of trophy.

The only rule he'd been taught that he wouldn't ever have a problem with was No means no!. That was simply a gimme.

He stepped up close to 2989 and smiled. He contemplated extending his hand to her, but instead just shifted the cell phone from the pocket of his slacks to the breast pocket of his suit, ensuring she noticed the unique looking unit, asking, "Are you waiting for me."

Haley

She spotted him the moment he walked in the place. As if the nerves all over her face weren't enough, his stunningly handsome features gave him away instantly. She eyed him as he scanned the lobby looking for her and admired his body. Even with the clothes he was wearing she could tell that she was very much going to like what was underneath. She was debating on going up to him since he couldn't seem to spot her, but then he turned around.

The look on his face was priceless, and Haley knew he liked what he saw. She stared at him intently, her eyes already burning with desire for him, and allowed him to gawk for a moment. Haley'd spent a lot of time preparing for her date tonight, and she was glad that her red dress hadn't gone to waste.

She kept her eyes glued to him as he walked towards her, and she stood as he shifted the phone to his pocket, no doubt wanting to make sure she saw it. As if she needed any more confirmation that he was here for her.

"Are you waiting for me." he asked.

She didn't speak; she smiled and nodded before walking around him and making her way to the elevator. She tossed a look over her shoulder, gesturing for him to follow her, but she didn't slow her stride until she reached the elevator. By the time he caught up with her the elevator had reached them and she stepped in, pressing the number 14. Her body was already aching for the touch of this man that she didn't even know, but God was he sexy.

She considered making small talk while on the elevator to make it easier for him, since she assumed it was his first time actually meeting someone from the list. Though she wouldn't ask him, she could tell that he was a bit nervous. She placed a hand on his arm and stepped close to him and speaking to him for the first time, and since they were the only two in the elevator, she whispered to him, "No need to be nervous baby. I'll take good care of you tonight." She allowed her lips to just barely graze his neck, and she could feel the heat radiating between their bodies. Just the thought of him touching her had her tiny little black thong soaked and her nipples hard, begging to be released from her laced bra.

"Now we have 14 floors to go up. Let's see what we're working with," she said, grabbing his crotch where she could already feel how big he was. More heat flooded through her body as she felt his cock twitch in her hand, and she knew she was going to have a good time tonight.

Brett



The woman -- Number 2989, he recalled yet again, as if citing some human female from a bad Scifi movie -- didn't answer his question but instead only smiled and walked around him toward the elevator. Brett watched her pass, then -- when her back was to him -- dropped his gaze to her wonderfully rounded ass ... and realized that his lust was finally overwhelming his fear ... and he was hard as a rock inside his tight fitting midcuts.

He hesitated a moment, glanced around -- as if he really gave a shit whether some stranger saw him heading upstairs with a ... well, a stranger -- then fell in behind her, watching that beautiful behind swing to and from with her come and get me red dress.

She pressed 14 and the doors closed. A moment later she laid a hand on his arm and stepped closer, saying, "No need to be nervous baby. I'll take good care of you tonight."

She moved closer until their bodies were only gently pressed to one another; he felt her lips close to his neck, felt her breath upon his skin, and all the the while that he was remembering his Interviewer's warnings about no sex in public, he could help but want to spin her around, press her up against the mirrored wall of the car, lift that sexy dress, and be inside her even before they reached the double digit floors.

"Now we have 14 floors to go up," she told Brett. "Let's see what we're working with."

He drew a breath as she reached down to the front of his slacks and laid her hand over his crotch; her palm enveloped his upwards-reaching erection, and he could feel the tips of her long fingers pressing against his balls. He rolled his hips, almost without thinking, pressing his package harder against her hand, while slipping an arm around to her back, finding the skin exposed back the low cut and pulling her tighter against him.

He looked to her, meeting her eyes, and was just tilting his head to kiss her when the bell to the elevator door dinged. He glanced quickly to the number above the door and realized they were at the restaurant level. Feeling like a teenager caught in the back seat of momma's station wagon, he quickly grabbed for her hips and pushed her a foot away just as the doors opened. A couple quietly arguing about the quality of their dessert stepped into the elevator, practically forcing Brett away from his date before pressing 16 and continuing their quiet but unrelenting argument all the way to the 14th floor.

She was surprised at the man when he rolled his hips and pulled her into him. Perhaps he wasn't as nervous as she thought he was, but she was okay with that. Knowing that she was turning him on was doing wonders to her body and she ached to feel his skin against hers. Her pulse quickened as he drew her in for a kiss, and her heart just about stopped when the elevator dinged and he flung her away from him in an instant.

She bit her lip to hold back the giggle as she watched him compose himself while the couple barged their way into the elevator, making number 1266 much too far away from her than she preferred. The next ride up seemed to take decades as she listened to the couple argue about the food, and she couldn't stop her tapping foot as she grew agitated with their pointless argument.

Finally after the prolonged agony, the elevator stopped on the 14th floor and Haley all but leaped with joy to get off. She walked a few feet and then turned, waiting for the man to fall into stride with her.

"You follow the rules, that's definitely plus," she said just above a whisper before stopping in front of room 1424 and pulling the key card from her bra. "Here we are," she gestured into the room as the door opened. She tossed the key card onto the table as she stepped out of her shoes. "Well, you're going to come in aren't you handsome?" she asked, looking over her shoulder and she began removing her earrings, giving him a sweet, but still seductive smile.

Brett


He hadn't expected things to move so quickly, but now that they were, Brett didn't hesitate. He quickly stepped out of his slip off Italians and shed his tie as he moved close to her. He leaned in and kissed her neck with wet, parted lips, then dropped to his knees before her and looked up into those incredible blue eyes. As he caressed his hands up her thighs, his finger tips slipping under the waist bands of her skimpy thong, hinting at pulling the panties off her, he asked with a smile, "May I start here...? I really like starting here."

Haley was surprised at Brett's haste as he approached her, the nerves he seemed to arrive with were quickly fading. An experienced man in the bedroom, she thought to herself, I'm looking forward to this. She couldn't stop the sigh from escaping her lips as she felt his mouth on her neck, which was her most sensitive area. She tangled her hand in his tousled hair, holding him against her as she pressed her body into his, feeling his cock now growing even harder.

She gasped, surprised, when he dropped to his knees in front of her and ran his hands along her thighs and up underneath her dress. Chills went through her body as his hands tugged at her panties, and she knew that she wasn't going to last very long once he touched her. Lucky for Mister 1266, Haley never stopped after just one.

The sight of him kneeling before her, looking up at her, had her mind racing. She was aching for his touch in her most private areas; she needed him so desperately already.

"May I start here...? I really like starting here."

"Baby you can start anywhere you want," she breathed, already feeling herself giving way to him. She knew he would be good in bed, he had to have gotten by the three interviewers anyways, but she didn't expect to be this horny for him in the first two minutes they entered the room.

Brett smiled, pleased; he loved the feel of a woman writhing before him as his mouth worked hungrily between her thighs, but many women were hesitant to allow a man to begin their night of pleasure there. It was ... personal, much too personal for some women, Brett knew, which made this running hot lover-to-be such a joy for him.

He pulled the thong down her thighs past her knees, then raised her dress with his hands at the back and his head at the front to get the obviously expensive gown away from what was going to be an active work zone; no sense in ruining what looked to be a brand new dress, he figured. Brett pushed his face into her groin, causing her to drop back onto her tush. He slipped his hands between her thighs and lifted her knees high ... then buried his face into her pussy, quickly working his lips upon her lips, his tongue in between them, until he parted the folds of flesh to find her swollen clitoris.

And then he pleasured her ... switching what he was doing -- up and down, side to side, hard and slow -- until he knew he'd found what was going to make her cum by her sudden reaction...

God ... I love eating a woman...

Haley couldn't stop the whimpers and moans that escaped her mouth as the man went to town with his tongue and lips. No wonder he was allowed into the club, she thought as he was doing just the right things to her her body. She loved that he was switching his techniques and giving her something different. She felt herself close already, wanting to cover this stranger in all of her juices so soon.

And then he went to work on her clit, and she bucked hard against his face, wrapping her hands in her hair and holding him while she grinded his face. A high pitched scream came from her as she realized that he'd found what she loved most and he knew it. "Oh baby, I'm going to cum if you keep doing that" she stuttered between moans. Her entire body felt like it was on fire, and she lost control as she bucked her hips against him and came hard, covering him with herself as she rode his face hard through her orgasm.