Page 18

Liz leans back and cups my cheek, and I stroke her hair, her shoulders, arms. Then our eyes meet, and it’s that shared look more than anything that almost knocks the wind out of my chest, the nakedness of real connection, something unspeakable that has flickered between us from the moment we met, and now that she sheaths me within her body, still unmoving, it’s no longer a flicker but a beam, strong and bright, electrifying the small space between us.

“You feel amazing,” she whispers and starts to rock. Her hands rest on my shoulders, eyes never leaving my face.

“You too,” I reply, and the words sound stupid and simple, unworthy of what I’m feeling. My hands on her sides have gotten light and tender, stroking gently, barely there. I don’t want to do anything to snap the thread between us.

But she’s the one in charge and her hips rock harder, faster, her pussy now grinding against the base of my cock. Her eyes close and her head hangs, her pants coming in louder.

“Do you need more?” I ask, sliding my hand between our bodies to rub her clit. “Or maybe side to side? Circles?”

She doesn’t answer or open her eyes and instead grabs my wrist and flattens my hand, then shows me how to move the whole palm, all the fingers pressing hard against her pelvis and rubbing it in broad circles as her hips piston.

I’m trying to focus on her and ignore the tightening deep in my groin, but it’s getting harder as she has set a hard and fast rhythm, and I meet her with small shallow thrusts from below.

She’s crying now, “Yes ... yes ... fuck... I’m almost there...” She grabs my wrist. “Like before, you know... From the side...”

I nod and give her that tight squeeze on her clit that she needs and—

Her head falls back in a wordless scream as she clamps on my dick, fingers clawing into my shoulders. Watching her fall apart loosens something inside me, something I’d kept way too tight for way too long.

I stroke her through a long sequence of spasms and wails, her grip on my cock almost making me lose it. I inwardly pat myself on the back when I manage to hold on.

Finally, she relaxes. “I feel so good right now, you have no idea,” she says.

“Good,” I say, smiling up at her. “That’s good. You did so good.” And then I ask, “You up for some more?”

“Of course. You wanna swi—”

I don’t let her finish the sentence when I lift her off my dick and flip her over, so she’s where I was before, kind of slouching on the couch. I kneel on the floor between her spread legs, and push inside her.

She grunts as I set a steady rhythm, hard, harder than before. She pants and my hands can now roam all over her breasts and belly squeezing to my heart’s content. Her eyes are glassy, hands stroking my arms and chest.

I’m getting close fast, feeling that telltale tightening in my groin.

“Do you think you can come again?” I ask.

“Probably,” she says in a ragged breath, her tits jiggling with rapid thrusting.

I have a decent idea now of how she likes to be touched, and I turn my hand so all my fingers can rub broadly against her clit, and it takes only a few seconds before she screams and her body stiffens and clamps around me again.

I grab the flesh of her inner thighs, spread her as wide as I can, and give her a few punishing thrusts, her cunt still fluttering around me. As I fuck her into the sofa backrest, I am finally able to let my control slip. There is a tightening at the base of my neck and the base of my dick, and—

Fuck!

The first surge of release is surprising, violent, actually painful, the pleasure following on its heels, spurt upon spurt upon spurt—

Until I feel utterly spent.

Slowly, the world comes into focus again, as if expanding outward from the point where we are joined.

Panting, I smile down at Liz, who looks red and sweaty and so sexy, her hair wild and messy and sticking to her face. With her neck and forearms both pressed against the backrest, she looks like she’s surrendering.

“You look well fucked,” I say, still buried inside her. I don’t want to leave, ever.

“I feel well fucked. I think my pussy is currently composing you a sonnet.”

I laugh and run my hands up and down her thighs, her torso, squeezing her breasts again. I don’t really want to pull out, I kind of want to remain living inside her pussy, to be able to squeeze and rub and just do everything all over again.

But my cock needs a break and I do pull out and at that moment I realize—