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“Happy to help,” I say. “Anytime.”
“I think that makes it your turn.” Then, twitching, she jolts and laughs. “Sorry, a bit of afterburn there.”
“Not something to apologise for.”
“No,” she smiles. Her eyes, deep pools against the flicker of candlelight, glimmer reflections back at me as, canting her hips, knees widening, she stretches, catlike, arcing an arm gracefully over the pillow. Her hair rustles and whispers with the movement.
Her narrow waist flares to wide hips, the still-flat belly not yet betraying the child within. At her loins, somehow a stray kiss-curl has escaped the trimming. Wet with her arousal, it catches highlights to match the dark tresses fanned over the pillow.
So beautiful…
My cock pulses, but still, I want to look at her, to drink her in as she offers herself to me.
As I hesitate, “Is something wrong?”
The smile takes me. “What could possibly be wrong?”
“I thought you'd want to…”
“Jump aboard. Bang you quick and move on? No. I’m only trying to draw it out. Once…” My face heats. “… Once I'm inside you, I'll blow quickly. I know I will. I normally have more control this this, but…” I can't finish the sentence.
Her forehead smooths again, her eyes soft. “You really did want this, didn't you? It's not a casual thing for you.”
“No, Katya. It's not.”
She reaches out to me, both arms held spread. “So, come and do something about it.”
My groin jolts and, lying alongside her, I roll to cover her. My chest to her breasts. My mouth to hers. Her loins to mine. As I lie over her, she angles her legs, swinging up and around my waist.
My heart jackhammers as I moor myself against her entrance. The mere contact with her, hot, wet, welcoming, tightens my balls… Tightens my breathing…
Christ…
How long can I last?
As I press in, she shivers under me, tightening her hold, locking her heels behind me. She’s tight and slick, the muscle pulsing around me as I enter her.
Adjusting my position, I withdraw, then re-enter. As I penetrate more deeply, she blows air that whispers past my ear.
“God, Hickman…”
“That good?”
“Yeah…”
And now, I thrust. Only slowly yet, as I try to contain my own reaction. But as I move, she moves with me…
“I’m not hurting you?”
“Why would you hurt me?”
“The stitches…”
“It’s fine, Hickman. It doesn’t hurt. I’ll tell you if it does.”
I build my speed. Faster. More powerful. Deeper. With every stroke, she gasps, but the gasps are growing into yells…
Will she come again?
