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She again gasped in pleasure — gasped so hard that she coughed afterward. I kept pushing deeper into her, enjoying her pussy canal gripping my shaft and her cervix tickling my engorged dickhead.
All of me was ready for action. Eleanor was pushing her pussy back against my dick to get the shaft deeper into her. She must’ve been ready too. I didn’t disappoint her; I started fucking deeply with a slow rhythm.
I grabbed lecherously at her body with every thrust, massaging her plump tits and rubbing her ass. Her pussy was tight enough to slow down my dick’s journey enough. Eleanor acknowledged my effort with ecstatic moans. She moaned every time I squeezed and pulled on her nipples.
I got into a good fast fucking rhythm. Feeling my balls crash into Eleanor’s clit with every thrust in and hearing the slight slurping sound of my long cock sliding out of her, aided by both my and Eleanor’s natural lubrication.
She turned her head to her left. “I—”
I answered by leaning in and kissing her again, kissing her even more passionately than I’d kissed her that first time.
My tongue played in her mouth just as my dick was playing in her pussy, just as my hand was playing with her nipples. I sped up fucking and rubbing.
Her pussy clenched on my pumping dick. I pushed through the tightness anyway, in and out. I didn’t break my thrusting rhythm. I didn’t interrupt her pleasure, and I didn’t deny my own hot desire. Her legs shook. Then Eleanor’s pussy pulsed, making it incredibly tight.
I knew not to slow down fucking her and massaging her breasts. She showed her gratitude. Her pussy throbbed and covered my dick in wetness. She came over and over.
My own thighs throbbed. My dick and balls were just at the tripwire, at the point of no return. I was on the verge of cumming, of shooting my saved-up load all into Eleanor’s pussy. I grabbed her from behind, gripping her tightly with all the strength of my arms. Then I mashed my dick even deeper into her pussy, as I felt my cock start to throb up against her walls.
Every burst of cum splashed out into the depths of Eleanor’s pussy and womb. She gasped and whimpered with every burst of cum I pumped into her. I leaned in and kissed her ear, then sucked on the earlobe. She reached behind and fondled my balls as if to milk more cum out of them. I managed to shoot two more gobs into her. She sighed with each one.
I ran my hands over Eleanor’s curvy torso, with small squeezes at her waist and hips. My cock was still deep inside her. I held her from behind and nudged her to stand up. As Eleanor stood up, I kissed the crook between her shoulder blades, just below her neck, and I pulled my dick out of her pussy.
We stood face to face again. Eleanor pushed her face into my face for a slow, loving kiss. Her tongue fluttered at my lips, then inside my mouth. Her breath was hotter, with a slightly flowery smell. It was as if she’d just been put into a different physical state by me fucking her hard and filling her with my seed.
Still breathing quickly, she sat back down on the sofa, where she’d left her book of Lord Byron. She wiped the sex fluids off her hands onto her stomach and picked up the book again.
“You wanna sit down with me again?” Eleanor smiled when she asked. Of course, I wanted to sit down with her again.
The library’s pilled fabric sofa wasn’t designed for naked use. Maybe it was the first time it had been used by nude patrons. I didn’t care. Eleanor probably didn’t either. Eleanor and I had both just orgasmed and were recovering in post-orgasmic ecstasy.
I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Orgasms from jerking off were nothing like orgasms from real sex. I hadn’t had any of the latter in at least a year. Now, after cumming inside Eleanor, I was relaxed, sated, winded, and washed over by love. I wouldn’t admit that last part. But how could I not feel love toward this kind, curious, quirky, gorgeous, and sexually expert woman?
I moved in to kiss Eleanor again, this time softly, to embrace her lips in my own, to show her how much I enjoyed spending time with her. She was already looking down at the Lord Byron book in her hands. We were both still naked.
I reached out to Eleanor’s arm. My hand cradled her chin, and I leaned in for the soft, tender, loving kiss. It was a kiss that said “I love you” without freaking out anyone by actually saying it.
Eyes half-closed from sexual exhaustion and exhilaration, she kissed me back, just as tenderly, lips on lips, tongue on tongue. She lay her head in the crook of my neck. Her hair smelled like Pantene.
