16. Pluto Monroe #3
When he pulled back to spit again, the sound of it made my stomach flip.
He let it drip down my pussy, messy and raw, then slid his fingers through it and shoved them back inside me like he wanted me to feel all of it.
He sucked my clit again, harder this time, his lips locked tight, his tongue moving fast, and my body damn near levitated.
My head fell back, and my mouth flew open, but no sound came out.
My climax hit so hard, it stole the air from my lungs.
I came hard for him, loud and wet, my pussy clenching around his fingers while he moaned into me like he was proud of what he just pulled out. My thighs shook, my hands gripped the edge of the rock, and all I could do was ride it out while he kept licking me through it.
He didn’t stop until I was twitching from overstimulation, my legs weak, my chest rising too fast, and my pussy still leaking from how deep he took me.
Then he stood, licked his lips slow, and leaned in to kiss me—tongue and all—making me taste every drop of myself off his mouth.
“You ain’t need dick,” he murmured against my mouth. “You just needed a nigga who could make you cum like that.”
I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t. I was still catching my breath, and trying to figure out how the hell he just flipped my whole world upside down without even pulling his pants down.
I pulled my bottoms back on slowly while he stood there watching me with that same calm, hood-rich confidence that made me feel like I was already his.
Once I was dressed again, he reached for my hand and helped me stand.
We didn’t say much as we walked back to the car, but I could still feel the way he touched me in every step.
We got in, and just like earlier, he drove like the city was his to command.
On the way back to the mansion, I stayed quiet but my thoughts…
my thoughts were speeding faster than Pressure’s whip on the freeway.
My thighs were still trembling, and I could feel the faint throb between my legs every time the car hit the smallest bump.
My panties were damp, a reminder that his mouth had just been on my pussy, satisfying me in a way I never thought possible.
I kept my eyes on the passing city lights, letting them smear into streaks of gold and white against the dark windows.
The streets looked almost unreal, like the whole world was moving in slow motion, but inside me everything was still moving fast. I could still feel the warmth of Pressure’s breath against my skin, and still hear the low, focused sound he made when his mouth was locked on me.
I had touched myself before. I had made myself cum before.
But that was nothing compared to this. Masturbation was quick relief, but this shit with Pressure was something that pulled me apart and put me back together at the same time, making me feel raw and new in ways I didn’t know I could.
It wasn’t just the release—it was the way he stayed with me through every shiver, every twitch and every gasp I couldn’t hold back.
I could smell him faintly from the driver’s seat.
The scent of his cologne made my chest feel tight.
He wasn’t talking much either. One hand rested casually on the wheel while the other stayed on the console, close enough that if I leaned the slightest bit, my fingers could brush his.
For some reason, I didn’t do it, though.
I kept my hands in my lap, clutching them together because if I touched him right now, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop.
Being a virgin didn’t mean I was innocent about what I wanted, but it did mean I had never let anyone get this close to taking it.
And now, after this afternoon, I could feel myself getting addicted to the idea of Pressure.
I was becoming addicted to the way he looked at me, the way his voice dropped low when he would stare into my eyes when he spoke to me and how he made me feel like the only woman in the world when I knew damn well I wasn’t.
That was the problem now. I didn’t want to share him, especially not after the way he just sucked, licked and slurped my pussy.
When we pulled through the gates of the Jungle Estate, the sound of the tires crunching over the driveway pulled me back to the moment. The house was alive in the way it always was before dinner. Music drifted faintly from the pool area, and laughter spilled in from somewhere near the back patio.
As we walked inside, the women noticed us.
A couple were coming in from outside, their hair still damp from the pool, holding drinks and towels.
Others were passing through the kitchen with drinks in their hands.
Conversations didn’t exactly stop, but they slowed down just enough for me to catch the shift in energy.
Their eyes slid from Pressure to me, some fast and some slow, and I could feel the judgment in a few of those glances.
A couple of them didn’t even try to hide it, but I didn’t give one fuck.
When we reached the middle of the foyer, I turned my head toward Pressure, and he looked at me with a gaze so low that it sent a swarm of butterflies rushing through my stomach. I felt my lips part slightly, not even realizing I was holding my breath until I had to take it back in.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “For today.”
His expression didn’t change much, but there was something in the way his eyes stayed on mine that made my chest feel warm. He leaned in and pressed his lips against my cheek, and the heat of that kiss stayed even after he pulled back.
“Go get dressed for dinner,” he said. “Chef’s cookin’ for everybody tonight.”
I nodded and turned toward the stairs, my heart still beating a little too fast as I walked away.
When I opened the door to my room, Kashmere was standing in front of the mirror.
Her hair was straightened and hung down her back like a sheet of black silk, swaying just enough when she moved.
The deep emerald satin dress she was wearing caught the light and made her skin glow, and she looked beautiful in that effortless way that always turned heads.
She glanced at me through the mirror and nodded. “How was your day?” she asked, her tone even but not warm.
I hesitated for only a second. She already knew where I’d been and who I’d been with, but she didn’t know the details. She didn’t know about the way Pressure’s mouth had made me forget my own name for a second, or how I couldn’t stop replaying the sound of his voice while he slurped me in my head.
“It was good,” I said finally.
Her lips curved into a smile, but it was the kind of smile you give when you’re not sure how you feel about the answer. “That’s good,” she said. “I’m glad you had a good time.”
I nodded and moved to my bag, pulling out a fitted dress I’d been saving for the right moment.
I didn’t say anything else, and neither did she.
The silence between us wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t light either.
We weren’t arguing, but we weren’t the way we used to be.
Something in our friendship had changed, and it had started the moment she decided to keep her time with Pressure to herself. Now I was doing the same.
I grabbed a towel and fresh thong, and headed for the bathroom. I didn’t look back, but I could see her in the mirror one last time before I closed the door. Her shoulders were relaxed, but her eyes had that faraway look, like she was thinking about something she wasn’t going to tell me.
The bathroom was warm and filled with the faint scent of lavender from the soap the maids stocked in the cabinets.
I hung my dress on the hook behind the door and set my towel on the rack.
Turning on the shower, I let the steam fill the space while I thought about the night ahead.
Dinner wasn’t just about food—it was another chance for everyone to be seen, to compete quietly or loudly for Pressure’s attention.
But right now, I didn’t care about them other bitches. All I cared about was the way Pressure had me feeling.