"Oh, YES!" I nearly shout with joy as I ride him. He hits that magical spot perfectly. Grinding his cock, gripping his shoulders, bracing against his body, stroking long, short, in, out, up, down. Sometime during all the fucking, his shirt comes off, and the view of his beautiful chest and tight abs, enhances my pleasure. His hand grabs a flopping boob, and his fingers pinch my nipple. Then he pushes his other thumb against my clit. The sensation of all my erogenous zones being stroked sends me bucking so hard the futon bangs against the wall. I whimper like a porn whore, when the fireworks finally shoot off, exploding in every direction. My eyes lock on his face, and I watch him as I arch my back and cum all over him, moaning my ecstasy.
His hands move to grip my hips. Pinning me down, he bangs into me. Fast, pounding thrusts. His grunts join mine as he explodes inside. I'm so sensitive after my orgasm that I feel his semen spurt. It coats that deepest, sweetest spot, and the feeling sends me both into complete bliss and gnawing need. My legs quiver uncontrollably, and my eyes roll back in my head. A silent 'OH' freezes on my face. I'm lost in time and space. Then his rock-hard supercharged cock digs into it with a hammering thrust that sends a volcanic explosion of pleasure. Six star-filled times he fires in rapid succession until I'm floating on a high from which I will never recover.
When he's spent, he releases my hips, and I fold like a rag doll onto him. He catches my limp body and secures me in a cuddle.
I have touched heaven and survived.
7
Sebastian
Her eyes flutter open,and her breathing changes.
"You okay?" I whisper.
"Yes," she says softly. "I guess I fell asleep." She lifts her head off my chest and looks at me. Her eyes search mine, unsure.
I grin and sweep a stray strand of hair off her cheek. "How do you feel?"
She blushes and looks away. "Really? I didn't take you for a narcissist."
"What?" My brows furrow.
"You know how I feel. Fan-fucking-tastic. Best sex of my life. Okay?"
"Okay." I drag the word out. Wondering why she went there. "But… how do you feel? Are you still drunk, tipsy, or sober?"
Her eyes slam shut before she buries her face in my chest. "Oh. Damn." Then she peeks at me from under her long lashes, "About that rock…. Has it appeared yet?"
I chuckle. "Negative. Still, no rock to crawl under."
She starts to untangle herself from my embrace.
"Hang on. Sit up slowly," I help her to move to the edge of the futon. "Sit on the edge before you stand."
"Okay," she nods and puts her feet on the floor. I grab my shirt and pull it over my head as I scoot to the edge next to her.
"Let me stand first, so I can steady you," I say as I rise and pull my jeans up, tucking my dick safely inside and zipping him up.
She has that gorgeous just fucked fluffy hair and a relaxed, satisfied expression that makes me want to push her back down and make sweet, long, passionate love to her. But I hold out my hand and help her to her feet.
She shakes her head. "That's okay. I got it." Then stands up too fast and reaches out to grab something to steady herself.
I put my arm around her shoulders and help her gain her balance. "So, you're one of those women?"
Miffed, she shakes her head. "Those women?"
I can't suppress the chuckle at her oxymoronic dilemma. "Women who think they don't need men, but really do."
"I'll have you know, while I do subscribe to the feminist ideology that a woman should be strong and independent —obviously, I need a man. I simply don't like to be babied. Are you one of 'those' men?"
My smirk shifts to a sideways grin. "Okay, I'll bite. Those men?"
Her confident, superior smirk is sexy as fuck.
"The kind of man who thinks all women fall into two categories. The helpless bimbo or the man-hater?"
I chuckle, "Touché, Miss Doodle."
