Page 115 of Double Shot
Distraction gone; we both threw ourselves back into the moment. I could feel her orgasms, small, close together, like pearls strung on a necklace. They were getting more powerful though, a little further apart.
She started gasping out another one as I massaged her asshole with the tip of my thumb. She groaned and pressed back against me, and I knew that she was ready. I let it slide the entire way in. She groaned loudly and clenched tighter than she had before.
“Yes,” she hissed between her teeth. I let my hand barely touch the bruises on her back, wishing I could take those away, but she probably wasn’t even aware of them at the moment. Mine were certainly forgotten.
I swapped my thumb for my first two fingers, getting her ready for what would likely be the main event. I was thankful that I had already gone off once. Holding back right now would have been challenging. Instead of focusing on keeping myself up and going, I was well into my second wind.
My cock was glistening wet, our juices mixed. It was slick in my hand, and when I pressed the head against her asshole, she shivered in anticipation. While I wanted to tease, it was a distant feeling. I pushed forward, and she leaned into me. There was resistance, a tightness that caught my breath.
The pace started slow, and then quickly moved to a fast, deep stroke.
She shuddered when I put my hand around the base of her neck, my grip firm.
I felt her hand move between her thighs. She grabbed my balls, pulling on them for a few seconds, and then disappearing. When they were gone, I felt her shaking. While I took her ass, she furiously attacked her pussy with her own fingers.
She came.
I kept going, not changing my pace. Her next grasp on my balls was firmer, pulling me to go faster.
She shuddered, fingers on her clit, and came again.
I felt it building. It felt like it was coming from a deeper place, somewhere more primal.
Her back arched, and she started shaking, this was a big one. Her moan turned into a guttural howl, and I could see muscles in her back flexing. I buried myself to the hilt and exploded.
She held for a moment, vibrating like a tuning fork, and I heard something dripping on the floor.
We both collapsed forward at the same time, tangling in each other’s limbs. I slipped out of her, and she shivered.
The only reason we got up was that the floor wasn’t comfortable. Getting into the shower was an exercise in deliberate self-control. Her knees were gone, and my own body was boneless. She turned the water to what was likely highest temperature setting.
I took the soap and sponge and used it to wash her down, taking care to not press against the bruises. Then it was shampoo, and I ran my fingers through her hair, working it up to a rich lather. When she started rinsing her hair, that was my cue to get soap and sponge again, and wash her front.
We would be dead in the morning, so I stole a kiss while her eyes were closed, head tilted back to rinse. The kiss lingered, and she stopped what she was doing to put her arms around me.
When her hair was rinsed, she made a point to get the soap and sponge from me and then started giving me the same favor. Her touch was like a butterfly over my bruised chest. Her eyes smoldered as she took me in her hands and worked up a lather. After a double, I wasn’t going to be up for a third, but if she kept it up, I was going to melt and run down the drain.
The hot water ran out far too soon.
We toweled dry and realized neither of us had grabbed clean clothes. “I’ll be back.” I gave her a small kiss, and covered only by a wet towel, I went and grabbed our bags. When Roan and Grant saw me, they both started hooting and whistling, and then I had to think about how loud we had been.
Roan tossed me the first aid kit before I managed to make my escape. I caught the kit, lost my towel, and left it on the ground. I went back to where she was sitting on the side of the tub and opened the kit. There were some cuts and scrapes to hit with antiseptic, but nothing required stitches, that was a good thing. Her shoulder was swollen, the bite wasn’t done healing, but it would take a while longer to be fully healed. It least it wasn’t bleeding.
“Your face will need some attention,” she said. “What happened?”
“Ajahi, the big South African, he was downstairs, and we danced,” I said. She took the kit and started dabbing at my face.
“You might need some dancing lessons,” she whispered. The antiseptic stung cuts that I didn’t realize were there. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but a few of these butterflies wouldn’t hurt.” She unwrapped a few and put a few on the left side of my face, at the eyebrow, and the cheekbone mostly. He had big hands and swung like a big leaguer.
She finished and put a hand against my chest.
“Yeah, nothing we can do about these but pop some painkillers,” I said. She opened a bottle and shook out several for both of us.
“It’s done, it’s really done,” she said.
“It is,” I said.
“It’s all done?” She leaned forward.
