“Harder, Lance,” she demanded.
He obeyed, thrusting into her harder, deeper. But it was still not what she wanted.
“Fuck me like a man,” she pleaded.
Those were the magic words. Lance roared and scooped her off the love seat and tossed her to the carpet. He mounted her again, spreading her legs as a fire rose in his irises. His waist crashed into her pelvis, stapling her to the floor with authority.
“Yes!” she whimpered. “Harder!”
Lance fucked her harder, faster, deeper. A misting of sweat appeared in the fine blond hairs between Lance's pecs, like morning dew on blades of grass. Beads of sweat shook free from his mountainous pecs, splattering her belly like a sprinkling rain as he pummeled her with his thickness. He tasted her flesh, nibbling and sucking at her neck, as his thick cock pumped and swiveled inside her.
“More! More!”
Roughly, he flipped her over as if she weighed nothing and positioned her on all fours. Grabbing two mighty handfuls of her ass, he spread her opening wider and thrust in. Wet smacks of sticky, sweaty flesh filled the living room of her apartment. He fucked her on the carpet like an animal, jack-hammering her from behind with his big dick.
Paige grasped at the carpet, clawing at the tiny fibers with her fingers as he filled her again and again.
Soon, Lance began to grunt and groan, and the stud's pace began to splinter into a broken staccato rhythm. He was close and trying to fight off his climax. Paige clenched her muscles and squeezed him tighter.
“Come, Lance,” she moaned. “Give me your cum.”
With a roar, Lance pulled out. He burst like a geyser, and the first blast of his seed arced high over her body. The rest of his load splattered up her back, painting long lines of his warm and heavy cum.
And then, spent, the rest of the athlete's body followed. He collapsed on top of her in an exhausted heap. She was happily ground into the carpet, smashed beneath the solid mass of the hockey player. His cream was like a slick, tallowy glue between their sweaty bodies.
“Wow,” she said, gasping for breath. The salty scent of sweat and fluids hung in the air all around her. “That was a big load, Lance.”
He chuckled sleepily. When he finally rolled off her and onto his back, Paige attached herself to his torso like a koala. His chest was so warm and hairy and comfortable.
Minutes passed with no need to speak or move.
“I hope you'll spend the night with me,” Paige said at last.
“Of course,” he said, kissing her gently on the forehead.
She sat up. “Then we should head to bed. We've got a big day tomorrow.”
The two rose to their feet.
Paige put her finger to her lips as they entered the bedroom. “She's still sleeping.”
Chapter 25
Lance
Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!
Lance's cell phone alarm woke everyone in the room at six in the morning. Irie immediately began to cry, and Paige rushed out of bed to pick her up from her crib. Paige slipped the sleeve of her night gown off her shoulder and gave Irie her breast, and the child's cries came to an abrupt end as she began to nurse.
“Morning, birthday boy,” Paige said.
“Morning.”
She climbed back into bed, sang him 'happy birthday' in a sexy, feather-light voice, and concluded with a kiss.
He smiled at her, touched. “Thank you.”
“Today's the big day!” she said happily. “I still can't believe it.”
