Page 7 of Trusting the Fall
“Breathe, baby. You can take it.”
He continues the slow, massaging circles over my clit, with shallow pumps of his hips, coaxing himself further inside.
I take a deep breath in and shudder when he fills me to the hilt.
“Fuck, so sweet and tight.”
“No, your dick is a tree trunk. Anyone would feel tight,” I moan in delighted torture.
He pulls out slowly before pushing back in quickly, his balls slapping against my piercing every time he bottoms out.
“Fuck, yes,” I whisper.
I moan every time he hits against the ring. He must notice the way I quiver and sigh because he starts angling his hips to rub against it before pulling back, making sure I’m reaping the benefits of my accessory.
Finally, a man who knows what he’s doing.
The comfort of being with an attentive partner makes the blood sing in my veins.
I feel delirious with pleasure as he picks up the pace, his balls making little taps against my clit.
“Yes. Yes. Yes!”
My cries get louder and more deranged as I feel myself get closer to yet another orgasm. How many am I up to? And he hasn’t finished once yet? I may need to keep this man around for a little longer if this is the way he treats a woman.
My stomach clenches at the building sensations, so I push my hips back to meet his, chasing my release.
A quick slap against my arse cheek has a shiver running up my spine, tingles bursting in my neck. He pulls out and rolls me over.
Dear God, I love the way he handles me.
I enjoy being in charge, but fuck, if a man knows what he’s doing, who am I to disagree? I’ll gladly lie down and just take a fucking from this guy.
He wastes no time in parting my thighs and sinking back into me. The new position lets him grind harder against my clit, which I know will make my piercing rub against the base of his cock. I’m so glad I get to see his face when he realises that little fact.
“Fucking god,” he moans.
“That’s right, baby. It’s not just for my pleasure.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet my lips.
It’s a frantic clash of writhing tongues and nipping teeth. We both pump our hips against the other with animalistic need.
Our moans mingle with our kisses, and I feel like I’m directly consuming his satisfaction as it intensifies.
He winds his arms under my back, holding down my shoulders, fucking himself deeper into me. I almost can’t breathe from how intense the pleasure hits me with every grind. Emotions and sounds are gaining height and speed outside of my control.
“I’m gonna come,” he grunts. “Give me one more, beauty queen.”
He snaps his hips deep, bringing a hand down to wrap around my knee and pulling my leg around him. He grinds against my piercing and pitches up to hit my G-spot, earning my moans of surrender.
“Fuuuccckkk.” He buries his face in my neck as I feel him shudder inside me.
My own release pools underneath me, slipping between our bodies as we continue to slowly rock against each other.
I try to calm my racing heart as we fall into a lazy rhythm, but the ratcheting pace of Lover Boy’s above me still beats hard against my chest.
It offers a modicum of relief that it wasn’t just me who was surprised by the force of our bodies connecting. The force of our desires for one another.
