You Can't Mix To Save Your Life - Sex Stories

You Can't Mix To Save Your Life

... door, is too much for my independent, free-spirited mind to handle.

"That's it for today, slut," he announces after filling me with his hot spunk, giving my ass one hard last slap. "I won't let you or make you cum. And you better not even think about playing with yourself." He pulls his underwear and jeans up and unties me from the chair. "I can see you at the weekend," he continues his monologue while I decide to go sin-underwear, not being sure my sore butt can handle any.

"That reminds me, this Sunday I'm playing at this small club. It's the owner's birthday party, a lovely Dutch lady. You two would get on well; she's practically an older version of you. So, I'm playing there. Do you want to join me? You can even join in and do a tag — as much or as little as you want.

"What kind of music do they want?"

"They have a small terrace, and she wants me to start there with beach club vibes, going into progressive later."

"Mmm, yes, please."

"It will be an all-nighter, though, at least 5-6 hours. That's why I need some help." He grins at me. "You might want to wear something less revealing, otherwise..."

"Yes, would hate to be a distraction," I smirk.

"Sometimes you are the perfect kind of distraction. You inspire me, but you know that. And you also make me lose my fucking mind sometimes. But you also know that. And how much I hate you for that." He grabs a fistful of my blonde locks and pulls me into a rough kiss. "Fuck, can you believe this? I'm hard again... And it's your fucking fault."