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This time, I’m ready. I scoop a hand under her ass and drag her to me. I run a hand down her breasts, cupping them, then pressed my chest toward her, flattening her breasts against me.
She takes my cock in her hand, holding it still and ready at her entrance.
I lean forward, capturing her face in my hands. I kiss her almost gently. She thrusts her tongue desperately into my mouth.
I move my hands to her shoulders, down her arms, and hold her wrists on the counter, at her sides. I want her so badly that I took in a shuddery breath. “Ready?”
She nods and guides my cock to her entrance. I give a gentle nudge, and she pushes the rest of the way onto me. Feeling her slide on inch by inch, I teeter on the edge of madness as I strain to make it last, to make it significant. But the feeling of my cock filling her, stretching her, fitting into her so perfectly is almost enough to make me lose it.
“You’re so good inside me,” she breathes in awe, her forehead falling down and resting on my shoulder.
“You’re so tight and sweet,” I breathe into her skin. I plant my hands on her hips and pull her closer to me, until she’s flush against me and I’m buried as far as I could go.
I slide out, leaving just the tip inside her, then plunge in deeper. She lets out a hardened moan.
“You okay?” I ask, stopping.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Just like that. Keep going,” she whispers to me. “As fast and hard as you can.”
I let out a surprised groan. Her wish is my command. So I do it again, my tip nestled at her entrance, then thrusting in harder, revving up.
It doesn’t take long to get into the rhythm. Soon I’m pounding into her, making her whimper with every thrust. It’s so intense, so perfect, the way we work together, with her meeting each one of my thrusts with fervor. All I can do is hold on tight to her hips.
Whatever chord she’s hitting inside me, it’s a chord that has never been struck, ever. An orgasm is building inside me, and I can feel that it was going to be a tidal wave. I can feel her insides twinging and spasming inside me, and I know I’m not feeling it alone.
The rhythm increases to a frantic pace, and my hovering climax crashes down around us, enough to shake the complex off its foundation. “Come, Tenley.”
“But I want you to…” She protests.
“Don’t worry about me,” I growl, and next second, she comes hard, so hard that she screams loud enough that I’m surprised the granite slab beneath us doesn’t break in half.
Groaning, I lift her and tip her back so that I’m supporting her whole weight, hovering above her. I drill my cock into her, kissing her neck, her gorgeously swaying breasts. She wraps her legs tight around me, and our eyes lock. My muscles flex and tighten, and I crash into her, growling, rough and hard, body jerking and raw, fingers digging into her ass as I milk my orgasm.
When the last waves subside, I set her back down on the counter, and draw myself out slowly. She strokes my back, running her fingers down the contours of my body to my ass.
She smiles at me as I kiss her shoulder. It’s dark in the apartment, the only light the moonlight and streetlights, filtering in through the open glass door to the balcony. “Ready for bed?”
She smiles, and I help her off the counter. She takes my hand, leading me upstairs.
In the morning, I wake up feeling like a million bucks, with her wrapped around me. I quietly disentangle myself from her and take a shower, and when I return, she’s still sleeping peacefully. So I go out to the donut place on the corner and return with two tall coffees and a selection of pastries.
When I step inside, she’s coming down the steps in her robe, twirling her hair into a messy bun. “Oh! Donuts? I thought you left me without saying goodbye.”
“Hey. That’s bullshit. I’ll always say goodbye,” I say, going to the kitchen and setting the donuts down on the counter where we’d just made love. “I hope you like Boston cream.”
“Love,” she says, so I pull one out of the box and feed her a bite.
As she lets out a little orgasmic moan that makes my cock dance in my pants, I take the next bite. I’m just starting to chew when she grabs my hand.
“Hey. Hello? You’re taking all the custard! What’s with that?”
“What are you, the donut police? I bought these,” I remind her.
She’s grabbing my hand at the wrist, licking the cream from the center of the donut in a very suggestive way. I’d tell her I have another two in the box, but I’m enjoying this too much.
