“One more glass, please?” I asked him. 

We had already drained about two cups of wine each. Yet, my glass was already empty again. I wasn’t drunk, just tipsy. I was always the lightweight out of the two of us. I could feel my face flush, my cheeks burning. A slight tinge of pain went through my jaw.

We were in our apartment, on the couch, watching our fill of television with a few bottles of wine. It was a long, stressful day, and I wanted to relax. I snatched the second bottle off the coffee table and began toying with the top. The first bottle was drained and laid flat on the table.

“I said no, love,” he reached out and took the full bottle from my hands. 

“Why?” I asked in a whiny voice. 

He leaned into my ear and whispered, “Because if you’re drunk, I can’t fuck you, princess.”

I could feel his hot breath on my neck, his cologne flooding my nose. By then, I couldn’t control myself. It must’ve been the wine. I then breathed in his scent and began to suck on his neck. I made my way from the back of his ears down to his collarbone. Leaving a trail of purple marks, the further I went down. He made no sound; it would take a bit more for him to give in to my need for liquor. 

“My lips need attention too, hun,” he then said.

I could hear the smile in his voice as he shifted on the couch to a comfier position. I backed away from the art I had just made on his neck and looked into his big, brown eyes. They looked needy. They needed me. 

“Do they now?” I asked.

“Yes.” 

I gave him one kiss right on the mouth, then pulled back. His eyes were closed, lips ajar, expecting more. I wanted him to beg for it. This man thinks he can tell me what to do, but he’ll be the one begging in the end. 

I noticed him staring at my lips, “Please, I want more.”

I kissed him again, but deeper this time. Our lips become intertwined with each other. I slowly moved my hands under his shirt to massage his back. His hands distinctly did the same. It wasn't long before his eager hands made their way to the back of my bra strap. I wanted him to take control, but I couldn’t let him. I had to have control over him. 

“Nuh, uh, honey.” I dragged his hands towards the front of my chest, “You have to work for it.” 

He let out a small huff alongside a smile on his face. He wanted to work for it. He then started to massage my chest, slipping a hand inside each of the cups. I let out a small moan at the tenderness of my nips. He continued at the same pace, making my moans grow louder. 

I looked down to see that he was already hard. Was it the wine, my breasts, or the sounds of my moans that got him that hard already? Either way, I couldn’t help but stare at it. I then reached down to slide off his pants, his boner pressed against his boxers. 

Now it was my turn to get undressed. Slowly, I removed his hands from my nipples and took off my shirt, then my bra. My breasts fell back to their natural place after being released from their prison. He couldn’t take his eyes off them. His boner only grew.

“Excited are we?” I said, flinging my bra onto the couch.

He nodded as his boner twitched in agreement. I climbed onto his lap and straddled him. I began to grind on him as my legs wrapped around his waist. His breathing immediately got heavy, as did mine. I could feel all of him against me. It felt so good. 

I began to grind harder and felt a wariness beginning to grow in my stomach. I was close. I then smashed my lips against his and intertwined our tongues together. It wasn’t long before I came, moaning into his mouth. 

“Who’s a good girl?” He whispered in my ear.

I had already came, but the urge to satisfy him only grew. I began to speed up in my grinding, but he didn’t complain. He began to let out a few gasps.

“Keep going.” He said, flinging his head back on the cushion, “It feels so good.” 

I kept up the speed even if my clit was beginning to get sore. He had to finish. I needed to get my wine, and I would only get it if he was satisfied. So I began to dip my hips harder against him, and his moans only grew. He was rock hard, and by our history together, it was only a matter of seconds before he came.

He took a deep breath in, “I’m coming.”

I proceeded to kiss him deeply and stop my grinding. He then came inside his grey boxers, his cum showing through them. I could feel the warmth as it met the outside of my underwear. 

“You came so fast,” I said, getting off his lap, “I didn’t even get to suck it.” 

He tried to respond, but he was out of breath. He had a smile plastered on his face as he then looked at the TV. We missed a significant portion of the episode, but neither of us cared. The wine bottle was on the couch beside him, and I was now parched.

“So about that wine?” I asked.

He picked it up and handed it over to me with no words. I could see beads of sweat fall off his forehead as he leaned his head back, sitting in his mess. In the end, I got my wine, and he was now satisfied.