But it’s not. Not only this. There is so much more, but I don’t have the words for it all.
Three short thrusts, my clit scraping against your hard, pumping shaft, and I come.
I collapse against your chest, feeling and smelling and tasting your sweat.
You move, carry me, still full of you; each step causes me to flinch and twitch and gasp and tingle, shooting bolts of after-spasms through me. And then you lay me down on my bed, on my back, and my legs hang off the edge. You stand between my spread-apart thighs, and you push, once.
I cry out.
You push in again, your hands gripping my hips, and I wail aloud.
You lean forward, and I feel you over me, feel your gaze. I wrap my arms around your neck, legs around your waist, and hang on. You crawl forward, drape me gently so my head is on the pillow, and now you’re kneeling over me. Still in me. Aching in me. I feel you shaking with need. Your eyes remain on mine, and you wait, utterly motionless now.
I arch my back, flex my hips, and thrust against you.
You groan.
Oh, that sound. Your voice, so often silent, rumbles a sound of wordless pleasure, and I thrill to hear it.
You dip your head, and I press my breasts to your mouth.
Something wild and hotter than lighting snaps through me at the touch of your mouth on my nipple.
I come apart again like an erupting volcano, thrust against you, and now you move, move, move.
We writhe together.
Your groans become loud.
Mine turn to cries, sobs of pleasure.
Your hand cups my neck, lifts me to you; the other curls around the back of my thigh near my knee and wraps my leg around your hip, and you push into me, and we meet each other there, thrust for thrust. I look at you and see your eyes wide and surprised, see emotion bleeding out of you. It takes the slashingrawness of this moment to make you show anything, but now I see it.
You don’t know how to do this.
No more than I do.
We are learning this together.
“Caleb,” I whisper, and I come.
It is a detonation of bliss, everything in me flying apart, and I exhale every molecule of breath I have left as I am wrenched by the orgasm, twisted, wrung.
And then, as the climax reaches its peak, you do the unthinkable.
You kiss me.
And you come, unleashing yourself within me, a hot wet gush, filling me, and you move frantically and you kiss me and grip my thigh with bruising frantic strength and your other palm grips my breast and thumbs my thickly erect nipple and I spasm with you, coming again, and now you see me, my eyes open as are yours, and this is a moment like no other, something huge and manic and terrifying and new bursting open and filling us both.
You come,
And I come,
And you kiss me,
And I kiss you,
And there is a thread between us, something real established.
