Page 8 of Soft Rebound (Mad City Moments #2)

Joe

M y dry spell has lasted so long, I feel like I’m dreaming. Or maybe this is happening to someone else.

Liz is naked on my lap, rocking her hips, sliding back and forth along my dick, wet and warm, as I gorge on her tits.

Her hair is thick and wavy, hanging like a honey-colored curtain over one side of her face, falling down her shoulder.

She smells light and clean, with now a slight tinge of perspiration.

I love how soft she is all over, how smooth her skin is.

I keep pressing into her flesh, that beautiful creamy lightly freckled soft flesh, I know it might bruise but fuck I can’t help it, I dig twist pinch knead , her body is absolutely made for fucking, and I don’t know where I want to go, to her soft belly, the lovely rolls on her sides, her wide hips, her dimpled thighs.

So much to touch, rub, squeeze, worship.

Her lips are open and she softly moans as she rubs the underside of my dick with her pussy, working herself up.

“Fuck, this is so good,” she says as she lifts her hips, grabs my dick and positions herself above it, and then takes it inside her in one fell swoop.

I almost choke on my tongue.

I wrap my arms around her back tight, my face between her breasts, her arms around my neck, and it’s as if we’re both trying to anchor ourselves against a surge of sensation.

She’s very wet and very tight, and hot, so hot inside, and I am suddenly aware of the rapid beating of her heart, the light trembling of her whole body, the desperation with which she clings to my head, the little pants, faint, barely audible, flying off her parted lips, before she’s even moved.

It’s not just me, the sad lonely man going through a long dry spell; she needs this, too. Needs me .

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—

“Shit! We didn’t use a condom.”

She straightens up on the sofa. “Shit! It didn’t even occur to me.”

“And I even bought some before we got here,” I say, panic rising through my body. “Shitshitshit. I am so sorry, Liz. I told you I was rusty. Goddamn it, like a fucking teenager...” My hands fly up to my face.

“Hey.” She grabs my elbow. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.

I actually have a contraceptive implant.

Benefits of long-term monogamy.” She gives a one-shoulder shrug.

“Pregnancy-wise we should be okay.” I sigh with relief, and she continues.

“Now as for STDs, if you’ve really not been with anyone in years, it’s probably okay, too. ”

I breathe out with audible relief. “Okay. Thanks for being so cool about this. And I’m sorry again. Once your tits were in my face, I completely blanked out.”

Liz smiles and asks, “Where’s your bathroom?”

I point her toward the hallway and she runs there quickly. I hear the toilet and the faucet.

I get off the floor and spread out in the corner of the sofa, leaning against both the armrest and the backrest, one of my legs on the seat.

When Liz comes back from the bathroom, I motion her over.

She smiles and sits between my spread thighs with her back against my chest, and I hug her around the shoulders.

She brings one hand up to lazily play with my arm hair.

We stay like that for a long while, neither of us saying anything.

“That was amazing,” she finally speaks. “Thank you.”

“Thank you ,” I say. “And it really was amazing.”

“So what do we do now?” she asks. “I don’t know the etiquette for casual hookups.”

“I don’t know either. We can do whatever you want, I suppose. Do you want to eat? Take a shower? Do you want to spend the night or go home?”

She stiffens. “I definitely don’t want to spend the night. That would be too weird. We just met.”

“If you give me a few minutes we could go again,” I say. “And the bed is much more comfortable.”

But she is suddenly very squirmy. “That sounds very tempting, but I think I should go.”

I grab her by the shoulders. “Hey, hey, wait. What’s going on?

She pulls away from me and twists partly at the waist, so she can see me. “To be completely honest, I am freaking out a little bit, and I think I should leave.”

Several emotions cross her face, all of them so fast I can barely identify them.

There’s affection, sadness, confusion, panic.

“Of course you can leave if you want,” I say softly, my knuckles brushing her cheek, “but maybe you could tell me why you’re freaking out.

I want you leaving all relaxed and floating, not more stressed than when you came over. ”

She takes a deep, slow breath, but her shoulders remain stiff even after she exhales. “Joe, I enjoyed this. I really, really did. But I just got out of a long relationship, and I probably shouldn’t have done it because it’s too soon.”

I feel a flare of anger. I did ask her if she was ready. If it was too soon. “I thought you wanted this...”

“I did! I really did.”

“Then who gets to decide it’s too soon?”

“I don’t know. Everyone? You’re supposed to wait and heal...”

“Hey...” I grab her chin and tilt her face toward me. “There’s no supposed to here. You and I met tonight, and neither of us planned it, but we both had a really good time. That’s all that matters. I don’t want to hear about you regretting anything we did together.”

She looks away and takes a few deep breaths before turning toward me again. “Can I tell you something else?” she asks. “Something private?”

“Of course.”

“Promise not to be upset?”

I swallow hard. “I promise.”