Page 167 of Slapshot Baby

“I’m close,” she gasps. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop. Fuck me through it.”

“Let me feel you come on my cock. Soak me. I want to feel you break.”

Her whole body locks. Her walls clamp around me so hard my vision tunnels.

She screams, the sound raw and loud and completely uninhibited, hips stuttering, thighs shaking violently against mine. Every contraction ripples through her in waves, milking me. The wetness of her orgasm coats my cock and drips down.

I last four more brutal strokes before the pressure crests. I bury myself to the hilt and come with a groan that tears through my entire chest, thick pulses flooding the condom while her pussy keeps fluttering around me.

We stay connected, both panting hard. Her forehead pressed into the couch arm, my hands still gripping her hips, thumbs still tracing those soft curves I can’t stop touching. My cock twitches inside her with aftershocks.

When I pull out and step back she straightens slowly, turns around. Her face is flushed deep pink, pupils still blown wide, lips swollen.

But her hips shift restlessly. Her thighs press together. The slight, hungry squirm of a woman whose body hasn’t finished what it started.

“You want more,” I say, already feeling the blood start to redirect at the sight of her.

“Is that a problem?” Her voice is pure challenge, still wrecked.

I’m spent, still softening. But looking at her standing there naked and flushed and still hungry makes my need rebuild fast.

“Get on your knees,” I order.

“Excuse me?”

“Put your mouth on me again. I’ll be ready in two minutes. Get me hard so I can fuck you again.”

Her eyebrows lift. Then a slow, wicked grin spreads across her face.

She pushes me down onto the couch and drops between my legs. She peels the condom off, tosses it aside, and takes my sensitive cock into her mouth without hesitation.

I hiss at the overstimulation, the sensitivity bordering on pain. Then her tongue swirls around the head and the pain dissolves into dark, building heat. She sucks hard, hollowing her cheeks. I feel myself thickening against her tongue almost immediately.

“That’s it,” I breathe, hand sliding into her hair. “Your mouth feels incredible. Suck me harder. Get me ready to fill you again.”

She hums around me and the vibration rolls up my spine like electricity. Her head bobs, taking me deeper with each pass, hand wrapping what her mouth can’t reach, twisting on the upstroke in a way that makes my abs seize.

Spit runs down. The wet sounds are filthy.

“I’m getting close already,” I warn, hips twitching.

She pulls off, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes savage.

“Not yet.” She stands, turns her back to me. “Sit up.”

She grabs a fresh condom from the side table drawer, tears the foil with her teeth, and rolls it onto me. Then she lowers herself onto me in reverse, reaching between her legs to guide the thick head to her entrance.

When she sinks down fully the groan that rips out of me is pure animal.

She’s swollen from the first round, tighter, hotter, and the angle in this position hits deep, the head of my cock pressing against places that make her thighs shake.

“Don’t come until I do,” she says, voice commanding even as it trembles.

She plants her hands on my knees and starts to move. Slow grinding circles at first, her hips working in a rhythm that lets me feel every inch of her walls dragging along my length.

Then faster. Harder.

She lifts and drops, taking me completely with each stroke, the wet slap of her ass against my thighs growing louder.