She told me she was smutfree. Said it with a straight face while her thighs pressed together on my couch, skirt riding high enough to show the lace edge of her panties. I laughed once, low, and let the sound hang between us until her cheeks flushed.
Prove it, I said.
Her breath caught. She shifted, knees falling open just an inch, enough for me to see the damp spot already darkening the cotton. I dont do that anymore, she whispered, but her voice shook on the last word.
I leaned in, close enough that my mouth brushed the shell of her ear. Then why are you soaked through your underwear like a fucking slut who needs cock?
A tremor ran through her. She didnt close her legs. Instead her fingers twitched against the cushion, like she wanted to reach for me and couldnt admit it. I didnt touch her yet. I just watched the way her nipples tightened under the thin top, how her pulse jumped at her throat.
Take them off, I told her. Show me how smutfree you really are.
She hooked her thumbs in the waistband and slid the panties down slowly, like she was fighting herself the whole way. When they hit the floor they left a shiny string of arousal stretching between fabric and cunt. I grinned.
Spread.
Her knees parted wider. Her pussy was swollen, lips glossy, clit already peeking out like it wanted attention. A single drop slid down toward her asshole. She made a tiny, humiliated sound but didnt close up.
I dragged two fingers through her folds, collecting the wetness, then pushed them into her without warning. She was tight, hot, and so fucking wet the sound was obscene. Her hips jerked forward, fucking herself on my hand before she could stop.
Thats it, I growled. Ride my fingers like the desperate little mess you are. Thought you were smutfree? Look at this greedy hole sucking me in.
She moaned, raw and broken, and started grinding down harder. I curled my fingers, found the spot that made her thighs shake, and rubbed it steadily while my thumb circled her clit. Her head fell back. One hand flew to her breast, pinching her own nipple through the fabric.
I pulled my fingers out and slapped her cunt once, sharp and wet. She gasped, eyes flying open.
Beg, I said. Or I stop.
Please, she breathed. Fuck me. I dont care about the stupid rule anymore. Just fill me up.
I unzipped, pulled my cock out, and let it slap heavy against her slick folds. She stared at it like shed been starving. I rubbed the head up and down her slit, coating myself in her mess, then notched at her entrance and shoved in to the hilt in one thrust.
She cried out, back arching, cunt clamping around me like a fist.
I didnt give her time to adjust. I fucked her hard, deep, the couch creaking under us. Every stroke made filthy wet sounds. Her tits bounced with the force. She reached down and rubbed her clit in frantic circles, chasing it.
Tell me youre not smutfree, I demanded, pounding into her.
Im not, she sobbed. Im a filthy slut. I need your cock. Harderplease
I flipped her onto her stomach, yanked her hips up, and drove back in. One hand fisted her hair, the other reached under to slap her clit in time with my thrusts. She came with a scream, pussy pulsing and gushing around me, soaking my balls and the couch beneath us. I kept fucking her through it, using her spasming cunt until my own orgasm hit and I pumped her full, thick ropes of cum flooding her.
When I pulled out, it leaked down her thighs in a white, messy trail. She stayed there, ass up, breathing hard, ruined and smiling.
Still smutfree? I asked.
She laughed, low and wrecked. Not even close.
