Let's Focus On Us

Freya’s staring at her phone, stuck on an old pic of her and Brad. The doorbell rings and there he is—older, cocky grin and all—filling her doorway. Panic hits fast because her folks made it clear: no Brad. He steps inside anyway, says he can’t quit her and needs five minutes. She shuts the door quick before someone sees. Brad swears he loves her; Freya loves him back, but she’s still afraid of the fallout. He reminds her she’s not a kid anymore. That line lands. She feels the heat rise, tosses the phone, grabs his face and kisses him hard. Clothes hit the floor in a rush. He drops to his knees, tongue on her natural tits, then lower, licking her tight teen pussy until she’s wet and shaking. She pulls him up, drops to her knees, swallows his cock deep, tasting herself when she kisses him again. They fuck like they’ve been starving—her legs locked around him, pussy gripping every thrust, pussy to mouth when she needs another taste. No talking now, just grunts, slick skin and the sweet slap of bodies finally getting what they missed.