“Justin, more.” It’s a command and a plea as her hips roll.
I ease all four fingers inside her, enjoying her purr as my fingertips press against her smooth, warm inner wall. She squirts at me, and I stay there, moving my fingers in tandem with my mouth as I work to stretch her, readying her for my cock.
Her body tenses as I tuck my thumb to move it inside, but she demands I don’t stop. She grunts as my whole hand curls into a fist inside her.
“Y-yes. Y-yes. More. Harder, Justin.”
I love that my girl is so fucking vocal, telling me what she wants, what she needs.
I move my fist, slowly, letting her adjust to the presence of my whole hand inside her. Her walls flutter against my knuckles, gripping me like she might never let me go. I’m okay with that.
She’s soaking, my face is soaking, my arm is soaking, I’m sure the sheet under her ass is probably soaking too, and her breath is coming in sharp pants again. That’s when I know I have her.
“Harder, Justin. I’m not fucking fragile.”
I snort into her pussy. Fragile is not something I’d ever have called her, but knowing she wants more from me makes it really hard to hold back. I thrust my fist in deeper, enjoying her mewls and moans as her hips lift off the bed. I lap at her like a man starved, but it’s not enough.
I can’t take it anymore. I need to be inside her. I need those rippling muscles to clench around my dick, not my fist. I try to ease my hand out without hurting her, but I’m wobbling on the edge of my patience, and I just need to act.
She whimpers when her squelching pussy releases my hand, but before she can suck in a breath to protest, I’m upright on my knees, her heels on my shoulders, and my cock is halfway inside her.
She reaches a hand down toward her pussy, but I swat her away.
“If you want to play with something, play with your nipples. Your pussy is mine.”
I’m pretty sure she says “fuck” but I’m too busy reaching for her clit. It’s not easy and I might have to dislocate my shoulder to make it work, but I’m not letting this woman bring herself over the line while I’m inside her. Not this time at least.
It’s less than a minute before she detonates like a grenade with the pin pulled. She didn’t come on my cock last night so I didn’t have the exquisite pleasure of feeling the vise-like grip of her pussy around my dick when her release hit. She squirts again when she comes, I feel it, I hear it, I see it, but only for a split second because I’m pretty sure the muscles of her pussy are controlling the flow of oxygen to my brain.
The base of my spine tingles. She’s twisting her nipples, pinching them between her fingers and thumbs, eyes rolled back in her head and meeting me thrust for thrust as I smack my hips against her, bracing her against me with my forearm banded across her shins.
My body goes limp as I come, my orgasm rolling through every muscle. The anticipation of my own demanding release was consuming, but now that I’m spilling inside her, I realize it was her orgasm I was chasing far more than my own.
It took every bit as long this morning to make her come as it did last night, and it was every bit as worth it, too.
She smiles up at me. “You okay?”
I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman. Her cheeks are rosy, her chest is pink and flushed, and her eyes are heavy like she might fall back to sleep despite the fact her legs are still bolt upright in the air. Her hair is wild, and her skin has a sheen of sweat glistening in the morning light.
I’m breathless. This woman has literally stolen the oxygen from my body. How can I tell her how I feel without sounding like I’m a stage five clinger? Her pussy still hasn’t released my dick. And while I’m not complaining, we’re locked here, just staring at each other. I find myself wanting to crawl inside her mind to see what she’s thinking right now.
She has to feel this too, right?
It’s so out of the norm for me that it can’t be one sided. She parts her legs and drops them onto the bed with a soft thud. When I pull my hips back, she narrows her eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare. Not yet.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I give her a quick salute before leaning over her body and stealing a kiss from her. Her position on morning breath no longer matters because I need to kiss her. I need to pour some of this emotion welling inside me into her so she can feel it too. If she doesn’t already.
Her arms don’t move to wrap around my neck or shoulders. Her legs are now flat on the bed, not on my shoulders or curled around my waist. And she’s not digging her nails into my butt cheeks as we kiss, so I pull back, searching her face for signs she’s not okay. She’s lying like a limp starfish, her hands and feet hanging off the edge of the bed.
Her sheepish smile softens my hardening insides. “I don’t have the use of my limbs quite yet.” She jerks her chin at me. “Continue, though.”
I burst out laughing. My girl is bossy as fuck even when she can’t move. Should I tell her I’m falling for her? Right now, with my cock still buried deep inside her velvety prison? Her legs don’t work so she can’t haul ass and run away from me.
Until her muscles stop contracting around me and let me go, I’m stuck right here. Do I risk having that awkward moment hanging over us while waiting for her pussy to unlock and release my dick?
She covers both ears with flat palms. “Can you keep the noise down please? Your thoughts are hurting my delicate sensibilities.”
My chuckle shifts my dick inside her, and she moans. I feel like she might need an ice pack for her vagina. Do they make those? Are there enough dudes out there hung like in those monster porn books that would require such a thing to exist?
