Page 80 of Brought By the Storm

I ripped off my shorts, lubed my shaft then pressed the head of it against his loosened hole. When I started to enter him, he emitted a groan of pleasure. Before I could ask if he was okay, he put his strong hands on my hips and pulled me into him. He cried out from the entry, and I was afraid I had hurt him. I stilled, waiting for a signal from him on what I should do. He looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“I was trying to go slow,” I panicked. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Fuck me!” he demanded. “God, Eric. What are you waiting for?”

I started to grind into his hard ass. I had never experienced anything that felt so tight, warm and wet. Knowing I was inside Carrington had me heady, and I was basking in his sounds, his smell and the sexy contortions of his face each time I thrust against his prostate. “Are you doing okay, Care?”

“I didn’t know it could be like this. It’s…amazing. It’s so intense. Yes, keep doing that. Please, Eric.”

After I had been pumping at a steady pace for about a minute, he looked into my eyes and smiled. “Good?” I asked.

“So good,” he whispered back. “Faster, Eric. Pump those sexy little hips, baby. I want to feel your balls slapping my ass.”

I lifted his legs higher, no longer worried that I would be hurting him. I was pounding him like I was driving a stubborn nail. He was gripping the sheets and crying out nonsense words, mixed with F-bombs and various other swears. I knew we’d crest soon, so I watched as I fucked him. I wanted to etch into memory his beautiful face and body, taking me, loving me and being undone by me. It was leading to one of the most intense orgasms I would ever have. I was sweating from the workout, and I was hot inside from the intense pleasure. “Oh, Care, I’m going to come!”

He stopped his cries long enough to grab his cock and begin pumping. “Do it, Eric. Come in me. Fill me with your load.”

He knew dirty talk put me over the edge. I cried out. My dick jerked inside his tight channel. My ejaculation was so intense it almost felt like razors touching my skin as every nerve in my cock became electrified. “Uh, fuck. Care, Care….”

“Pull out. Get the last of it on my hole, then go back in,” he panted.

Even with my dick still twitching, I suppressed a laugh. I had learned this was his fetish since being with him. I slipped out, smeared his hole then pushed back in him. I pumped my dick while it was still hard enough, bumping up against his prostate a couple of more times, triggering his orgasm. He was writhing beneath me, manhandling his needy shaft as we both watched him spray load after load of beautiful white cream all over his belly, chest and even his chin.

I leaned over to lick the cum off his face, then kissed him open-mouthed, letting him taste himself. He held my head with both hands, devouring my mouth despite mutual gasping. When I pulled out, he lowered his legs so I could lie flat against his body, mushing his seed between our chests and abdomens. Still, we kissed and slid our bodies against each other.

When I released his face, he looked like he was drugged. “Carrington, are you okay?”

He sighed. “Jesus. No wonder you like me topping you. I can just imagine how great my big dick feels.” With that, he let out a mischievous chuckle and pulled me back into a kiss to let me know it was in jest. “Eric, you are…amazing.”

I wasn’t feeling very pretty, knowing there was spit and cum all over my face, and my hair was wild from his hands raking my head. “Um, what you’re seeing is a little rough right now, I’m sure.”

His gaze softened. “Sweet Eric. You’re beautiful. You know what you look like right now?” I shook my head no. “Mine.”

“Yeah?” I smiled.

“Mm,” he approved. “You once said you needed to see the real me to trust me again. This is the real me—the man who loves Eric Turner, first and foremost. I’m his. I’ll always be his.”

My eyes welled up. “Carrington, I do trust you. I have for a long time now.” I stroked his cheek. “And you were right. I can’t imagine any gift tomorrow being better than this one.”

He laughed. “Ah, you never know. I just may have gotten you that dragon-shaped lamp you were eyeing at the store the other day.”

I had been eyeing it all right—with horror. I chuckled. “Well, okay then. I guess it will get better.”

“You’re a brat.” He smirked.

“You’re a brat,” I countered.

“And you’re messy,” he added. “Uh, I guess I’m even messier. Come on. Let’s take a shower. I’ll be a prune after washing up again, but I wouldn’t want Santa to see us all cum-covered. He might skip our house and you’d miss your big day.”

I knew that I appeared mortified at the notion. “Santa wouldn’t do that.”

He chuckled. “No, I guess he wouldn’t. You’ve been naughty sometimes, but Santa sees I keep you in line with a firm hand.”

I looked out the window. The snowstorm they had been predicting was upon us. “Look. It’s going to be a white Christmas.”

“Hmm,” he observed. Then he kissed me. “Who says storms don’t bring good things?”