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looking at each other. Then Row growls deep in her throat and pushes me back onto the seat. Her fingers find my pussy again and thrust home. She throws my leg over her shoulder and fucks me hard and fast, just the way I like it, looking into my eyes, like we’re making babies or some shit.

CRAVING THE BEST MAN
    JoAnne Kenrick
    I ’m wet just thinking about him, can’t concentrate on anything other than trying to remember the sensation of his lips pressed against my sex and his sharp whiskers pricking my sensitive skin.
    I lose my grip on a half-empty wine goblet. It slips to the floor and shatters, the sounds of breaking glass piercing through me. Damn it . Everyone looks up. My OCD mother in her pristine white skirt-suit rushes to clean up the red liquid soaking into the lush cream carpet, and party guests pile around me, trying to engage me in their conversation about the secrets to a good marriage. Perfect! Now I’ll never get away .
    Throwing my arms in the air, I give up. I despise how my cravings have taken over everything, leaving me constantly focused on my wants instead of my needs. Want. Yes , I want him right now , even as my mother mops around my feet .
    This is stupid. I’d taken hours to tease my hair into soft, spiraling curls. Pinned it up with cute diamond pins. I worea new dress and shoes. I looked nice. So why would I want to ditch my sister’s engagement party for him? That would be such a waste of a pretty frock. And it would infuriate the bride-to-be, not to mention my mother. Then I remember the pretty peach lace corset squeezing in my waist and giving the girls a boost and I feel a grin spread. Shouldn’t put that to waste, either. Wiggling my butt, I relish in the tight pull of the G-string between my cheeks. He could be yanking that cord, pulling my knickers down to take me from behind.
    I give in, can’t stand here any longer pretending I’m all sweet as pie when all I want to do is fuck the best man…again and again. I decide it’s time for a fix and swiftly exit the parlor of my mother’s Victorian semi to go look for him.
    He is leaning against the brocade wallpaper decorating the hallway. He smiles at me from behind his long, dark bangs, twirling his bike keys over his decorated ring finger.
    I swear , he looks all the more attractive wearing that ring.
    Fixing tendrils of hair away from my face, I stand tall and slink toward him. I feel silly; never was one to get that accentuated sexy walk right. With my curves, I probably look more like a wobbling jelly than a sexy vixen. But my pussy leads the way; I am a slave to my cravings and don’t care how I look. He winks, turning me into a quivering pool of mush with the sex drive of a spring bunny.
    â€œHi, not enjoying the party?” he says, his voice all velvet and smooth.
    I want him to grab me and kiss me hard. I want him to drag me into my father’s office behind him so he can fuck me. I want…
    â€œNo.” My pulse races. What might he do to me?
    â€œWanna get out of here, Amelia?”
    â€œYes, badly.” I step forward to pass him. He grabs my wristand shakes his head, a smile so wide, teeth so perfect—the benefits of being a dentist, I guess. I’m thinking I’d like to reach up and lick his pearly whites, and my cheeks heat. “But I can’t.”
    His grip tightens, hurts a little. I can’t decide if I like the pain. “My motor is outside, we could go anywhere you like.”
    â€œI should probably go back to the party.” I wiggle and pull my arm, hoping to break free from his grasp. I don’t try that hard, as I’m not too sure I want him to release me.
    â€œI can’t stop thinking about you,” he croons, dark brown eyes glaring at me, skimming my body and stalling at my chest. “Been wondering what’s under that dress all evening.”
    â€œMy sister will notice we’re missing.” I’m a