**Hungry for You**

My girlfriend and I had just gotten home from dinner—some fancy place with tiny portions and too much wine. The second the door clicked shut behind us, she pushed me against it, her hands fisting my shirt as she kissed me hard. Her lips were warm and wet, her tongue sliding against mine with that familiar, hungry impatience.

“Missed you today,” she murmured against my mouth, her fingers already working my belt open. I groaned, hands sliding down to grip her ass, pulling her closer so she could feel how hard I was through my jeans. “Fuck, you’re already like this?” She smirked, grinding her hips against me, letting me feel the heat of her pussy through her leggings.

I didn’t answer, just grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her, carrying her to the couch. She laughed, breathless, as I dropped her onto the cushions and yanked those tight leggings down her legs. No underwear. *Fuck.* Her pussy was already glistening, pink and swollen, her clit peeking out from under its hood, begging for attention.

I didn’t waste time. I dropped to my knees between her legs and licked a hot, wet stripe up her slit. She gasped, thighs tightening around my head as I sucked her clit into my mouth. She tasted sweet and tangy, her juices smearing across my lips as I flicked my tongue fast and firm against her.

“Oh—oh *fuck*,” she whimpered, fingers tangling in my hair, hips bucking up against my mouth. I slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right, and she let out a high-pitched moan. “Like that, baby, just like that—*fuck*.”

Her pussy clenched around my fingers, her whole body tensing as I sucked harder, faster. I could feel her getting close, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Then she came with a cry, her back arching off the couch as she trembled, her cunt pulsing around my fingers.

Before she could catch her breath, I stood, shoving my jeans and boxers down just enough to free my cock. It was hard and throbbing, pre-cum already beading at the tip. I grabbed her hips and yanked her to the edge of the couch, spreading her legs wider.

She looked up at me, lips parted, cheeks flushed. “Need you inside me,” she whispered, reaching down to stroke my length, her thumb smearing the wetness over my head.

I didn’t make her wait. I pushed into her with one hard thrust, groaning at the tight, slick heat of her. She gasped, nails digging into my arms as I bottomed out inside her. “Fuck, you’re so *tight*,” I growled, pulling back and slamming into her again.

Her pussy gripped me like a vise, wet and hot, every thrust dragging a moan from both of us. I leaned over her, one hand pinning her hip down, the other gripping the back of the couch for leverage as I fucked her deep and fast. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with her desperate little whimpers.

“You feel so fucking good,” she panted, her legs wrapping around my waist, heels digging into my ass, urging me deeper. I could feel her walls fluttering around me, her breath hitching—she was close again.

I reached between us, thumb circling her clit in quick, rough circles. “Come for me,” I demanded, thrusts getting sloppier as my own orgasm built, balls tightening.

She obeyed with a broken cry, her body seizing up as she came, her pussy milking my cock like she was trying to pull every drop out of me. I couldn’t hold back—with a groan, I buried myself deep inside her and came, pulsing hot and thick into her as she clenched around me.

We collapsed together, sweaty and breathing hard. She nuzzled against my neck, still gripping me like she never wanted to let go.

“Dinner was good,” she mumbled sleepily, “but *that* was better.”

I laughed, kissing the top of her head, still buried inside her. Couldn’t argue with that.