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My mouth goes dry from all the things I’m hearing. He wants to fuck me, but only when we don’t need protection, when he and I have decided together how we’ll handle unprotected sex.

“What are we doing tonight, then?” I ask, still touching myself because with his eyes on me, I have to do something. I have to relieve some of the unending pressure that fills my belly under his gaze.

“You’re coming for me, and then we’ll see if we can work in a few inches, as long as you’re okay with that.” He takes his hand off his balls, his face screwing up with discerning focus. “Are you okay with that?”

I nod my head faster than a speeding bullet. “Please, Coach, I’m going to break into tears if I don’t get at least some of you tonight.”

Dean laughs as he draws nearer, finally joining me on the bed.

Reaching up, he grabs a spare pillow, and positions it under my hips.

He goes to his black duffel bag, and retrieves a bottle of lube.

My chest flutters at the sight of him carrying lube, knowing he thought about us while he packed.

He squirts some into his palm, and coats his glistening head.

He tugs his shaft, exposing more of himself, and adds lube there, too.

With my smaller stature, the pillow aligns our groins as Dean rests on his knees, and I lie on my back, hips pointed up.

He leans forward, kissing my clit, while stroking his fingers through my pubic hair.

“You’re so pliable for me, Clara June, so eager to come, so hungry for my touch.

Do you know how that makes me feel?” he asks, bending down to kiss my clit again, this time sucking it between his teeth for a delightfully hot second.

“Do you know how you make me feel? Hmm?”

His words are dizzying, his tone electrifyingly deep and erotic.

He grips his cock just a few inches below the glorious, reddened head, and tugs on himself, exposing more veiny erection.

I gasp when the slick, wide head presses against my entrance, a small anticipatory burn spreading through me as my body begs to accommodate him.

While working his head inside, in small, slow, gentle strokes, he feathers the perfect words over me, his free hand smoothing over my abdomen. “You make me feel worthy and special in ways I never have. Because I’d have to be someone special to make a woman like you feel so good, right?”

I gasp at the sudden rush of pain that hits and push up onto my elbows to peer down between us. “Hold still now, that was just the tip.”

I sink back into the pillows and get lost in the flow of his words, wrapping my spine, adding to the explosive pressure building between my legs.

“The way you take care of everyone you care about, how patient you are, how hard you work, you’re a goddamn queen, Clara June, and you deserve to be praised and doted on.

And when you unravel for me, when you show me sides of yourself no one has seen, when you give yourself to me in ways you never have, I fall a bit deeper. Did you know that?”

What is he saying? My mind is reeling as the pressure between my legs intensifies, the burn growing, the pain spreading.

He’s falling for me? Is he saying that? Earlier he referenced sex as making love.

Am I hearing all of this right or making clues out of nothing?

I don’t know, and I can’t think straight as he continues moving inside me, giving me more.

I want it all, but he’s right, that’s not something that's gonna happen in a single night. Another burst of pain from my pussy and I look down again, seeing he’s given me another thick, veiny inch.

I’m worried I can’t or won’t be able to take all of him, and what that will mean for us if we can’t.

But when our eyes lock over our sweat glazed bodies, both of us breathing hard, he says, “You can take more than you can think.”

I think he can read my mind, honestly.

I nod, and grab at the sheets, a bead of sweat rolling down my breast, toward my chin. “I want you so badly,” I admit, my voice thin with desperation, maybe adoration too.

“I know. I want you too, mama,” he says, and I gasp because as he says it, he pushes inside me a bit more, pressing his palm into my pelvis to relieve some of the pressure.

“Look at that,” he croons, nodding to the place where we’re joined.

His eyes move over my naked body to find my gaze. “How are you doing?”

I nod. “Good.” Sweat beads on my upper lip. “Adjusting.”

He nods, then uses the tip of his finger to trace his cock where it’s sunk inside me. A tickle reverberates through me, and my spine straightens. “Tease,” I breathe out, and he laughs, the sound filling the room with more of him.

“Take a breath, okay? I’m gonna give you some more.

” He snatches the lube off the mattress and squirts some directly onto our bodies, then reaches up, taking my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“I can’t wait to suck on these,” he admits as he gently nudges a bit deeper, my mind careening from the discomfort.

But as the sharp glints of pain fall away, they leave behind a numbing pleasure that sweeps through my pussy, radiating through my hips.

My body wants more, and is ready for more, and I can’t believe I’m actually taking his massive cock so well.

I was scared I couldn’t. Maybe when it comes to Dean, I can do anything.

“Fuuck, that’s more than I thought,” he notes, staring down at the first quarter of his cock plunged inside me, my lips suctioning around him. I nod my head as sweat slides into my hairline. He takes note, and pushes into my pelvis, warning me. “I’m pulling out now, that’s enough for tonight.”

I want to protest, but by the time my words make it to my mouth, he’s already hollowed me, and pressed the sheets to my cunt, absorbing the throbbing soreness that occurs.

He drops his cock against my clit, and thrusts forward, pinning the weight of himself against me with his thumbs.

“Focus on how good this feels,” he says, the bed beginning to squeak as he gains momentum.

Sweat sluices between the striations of muscle on his chest, and I watch a droplet fall, focusing on anything innocuous, buying myself more time.

I never think I can come again, and then it happens faster than the first. “Coach,” I moan, the sweat disappearing into his groin.

“Coach, I’m close,” I warn him, still unable to last more than a few minutes with him.

Tingling spreads through the base of my skull, and my toes curl, and my stomach clenches.

“Yes, oh my gosh,” I moan, my eyes snapping shut as the first contraction takes hold.

“Good job,” he praises, his tone frayed and thin, giving away his ungodly restraint.

“There you go, mama, come for me,” he adds as hot liquid spills onto my skin.

He’s close, spearing his weighty cock through his precum on my groin as I continue to writhe beneath him, the pressure of his shaft against my clit making me insane.

He talks me through each clenching wave, and when I’m panting and wet, my muscles completely spent, he takes me by the hips and flips me onto my hands and knees.

Panting and dazed, I listen to Dean’s heavy groans, and focus on the feel of his cock slippery between my ass cheeks. “Count down for me, Clara June,” he guides, “Start at five.”

My legs tremble, and my clit is still tingling from the orgasms. “Five,” I pant just as he thrusts his cock between my cheeks.

I love how he’s right where no one else has ever been, but not touching it, or playing with it, just teasing me by being near it.

Using my ass to masturbate himself, he calls out for me to countdown.

“Come on, what’s next,” he breathes, his thumbs sinking into my hips with a groan.

“Four,” I nearly stammer, and his groin slaps my ass again. Precum splatters against my back.

“Three.” More thrusts, more grunts from Dean, a harder grip on my waist, and a few curse words.

“Two,” I murmur, then close my eyes to focus on what I know is coming soon. Him.

Before he lets me count one, he presses his chest to my back, leaning over me completely, trapping his cock between our bodies like a steel pipe.

“Imagine me deep inside you, Clara June. Imagine coming on my cock over and over, because I’m holding you there, making you do it again and again.

You know how good you’re gonna feel, mama, once I’m finally inside you? ”

I just came. For the second time. And yet when Dean’s hips resume their roving, and he fills the room with a groan that rattles the art on the walls, I think I may do it. I think I may have another orgasm.

“Clara June.” My name is the last moan to tumble from his lips before he comes, covering my back and ass in heated streaks of cum. I don’t know if it’s how he sounds when he comes, or if it’s the tease of having his cum on my skin, but I give him my third right then and there without orders.

My legs slam together and my spine wobbles.

Dean knows, and his hands sink deeper into my hips as he talks me through it.

“I know, I know,” he hushes me as I moan and writhe, face pressed into the mattress.

“Pretty soon all that will be inside you, mama. Soon enough,” he says, making my mind spin out into a million different kinky, hot, lifelong fantasies.

I become buoyant for a moment, and I realize he’s slipped off the bed.

He returns with a towel and cleans me up before yanking me against his bare chest. He doesn’t bother pulling the sheet up to hide our nudity, and I don’t mind, surprisingly.

Dean traces circles on my back as he holds me to his chest, his chin stacked on my head. “How are you feeling? Sore?”

I nod. “Yeah but a good sore. I can’t wait to try again, to take more.”

Dean holds me a bit tighter when I say that. “Thank you for going slow with me.”

I let the truth slip free. “Slow is smart, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t think about having it all, right now.”

Dean surprises me. “Clara June, do you want more kids?”

This is the talk he was referencing. Okay, we’re doing this .

I sit up, and turn, facing him. His face is soft, but his eyes are serious.

Before I can answer, he sits up, too, and cups his palm to my cheek.

“Don’t freak out, alright? It’s just… I have st rong feelings for you, Clara June.

And I’ll be forty soon. I can’t afford to not know where you stand, not with how I’m feeling. ”

I want to ask him how exactly he’s feeling, I want to give him a pen and a piece of paper and have him write how he feels.

I want to hand him my phone and tell him to find a song that shows me how he feels.

I want to climb on top of him, cozy against his massive frame and let him show me how he feels, with his hands, lips and cock.

Instead, I focus on the calmness of his words, and this question. “Well,” I start, “I always wanted four or five kids. I always wanted to be the stay at home mom with a whole slew of kids. I thought that was so special. And I was always envious of those families, either in real life or on TV.”

He nods, but waits for more.

“I guess I thought once I got divorced, I was done having kids because, yeah, a crucial part of the having a kid element was missing.” My heart is nervously rattling behind my ribs as I swallow, and ask the question that is hanging between us. “Do you want children of your own?”

Dean reaches for my hand, weaving our fingers together. “I do want children, but I want you, too.”

I don’t understand what he’s saying, and my face must give me away.

He takes my other hand, and pulls me onto his lap, leaning against the headboard. “If you don’t want to do it all again, I would understand. And I want you to know, Clara June, that I want you more than I want anything else.”

I nod my head against his chest, loving the soft scrape of his barbed hair. “I hadn’t thought about doing it again, about having more children, because I didn’t think I’d ever have another relationship.” I stroke my fingers over his chest, my eyes growing heavy. “But now I do. ”

He kisses my head. “Now you do.”

I yawn and fight the overwhelming urge to sink into sleep. But it doesn’t work. The next time I open my eyes, the entire room is dark, and I’m in Dean’s arms, warm and safe.

I fall back asleep easily, because that’s how it is with Dean. Easy.