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I’mstillshakingwhenI gently push Timothy back. My entire body feels electrified, every single nerve alive and buzzing, but it’s the warm, expansive feeling in my chest that has me tingling.
“Sit.” My voice is thick and hard to find, but Timothy immediately sits on his butt, swinging his feet to the floor. “Off.” I tug on his shirt and he obeys, pulling it over his head before he turns a wide smile to me.
I think my smile is just as big.
“And these.” I pluck at his hideous shorts and he obeys, taking his boxer briefs with them.
He leans back against the sofa, clasping his hands behind his head, his dick jutting up and swaying when he shifts to get comfortable. He’s beautiful, each muscle perfectly cut, his skin golden. I run my fingers through the dusting of light brown hair on his chest. He’s still smiling, but that smile shifts into something wicked and his eyes go half-lidded when I toy with the small barbell piercing his right nipple. When I bend to lick and suck, using my tongue and teeth to tug and soothe, he moans.
He’s strung so tight he’s practically vibrating by the time I run my hands over his abs. It’s hard to ignore his dick and the bead of precum gathered at the tip, but I want to torture him. When I trace my fingers over his Adonis belt, he loses it, shaking with laughter and grabbing my hands, but not before I manage to tickle him a little more.
“Gentle,” he says with a grin, guiding my hands down. He lets go when I wrap my hand around his shaft. One slow, light stroke, and suddenly he’s serious again.
“Come here,” he says with a stuttering breath, pulling me onto his lap.
After I caught my asshole ex cheating, Timothy went with me to get tested. He got tested too—something he did regularly. We both celebrated our clear results with some drinks, and I can’t get pregnant. We probably don’t need protection, but I don’t know what he’s comfortable with. “Do you want me to grab a condom?” I ask.
Timothy’s thumbs stroke my waist as he looks at me. “I’ve never had sex without one, but it’s your choice. I’m willing and I’m still clear.”
“I want you. Nothing between us.”
“Nothing between us,” he echoes with a nod, pulling me close for a kiss. I can still taste myself on his lips and I kiss him back while I reach between us.
He whispers my name when I slide the fat head of his dick through my slickness. His hands tighten on my hips. “I need you,” he says against my lips.
I need him, too, so I notch him into place and slowly, slowly lower myself.
“Fuck,” Timothy gasps, his hips lifting, pushing deeper.
The stretch is incredible. Five years is a long time, and he has girth as well as length. Every inch I take leaves me unbelievably full.
His hands rise to my breasts and he twists and tugs at my nipples, bending forward to suck one into his mouth while I work him deeper. When he’s fully seated in me, I pause just to feel him.
Timothy leans back on the sofa to take me in from my head to where we’re joined. “You’re a goddess,” he says, reverentially, his eyes tracking back up, his hands returning to my tits, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they ache.
I run my fingers through his hair and rest my hands on his shoulders, leaning forward to kiss him. “You’ll tell me if your head starts to hurt?”
He grins. “Only if you promise not to stop bouncing on my dick.”
I don’t know if I should laugh or strangle him. “Timothy.”
He crushes me against him, capturing my mouth and kissing me deeply. “I’ll tell you, but I’d rather you were thinking about how good I feel inside you than worrying about my head.”
“You feel so good,” I tell him with a roll of my hips. We both moan.
“Gentle,” he reminds me as I start moving. “Nice and slow, or I won’t last.”
I want his nice and slow, his fast and hard. But I won’t last long either. Not with him filling me and touching me like he is.
We find a rhythm, achingly slow and deep. The entire time I ride him, the pad of his thumb circles my clit and his other arm holds me close and we kiss, lips and tongues and teeth matching the gentle but intense way we’re fucking.
I’ve had good sex before, but this is something else. Because this is Timothy, because he’s my best friend. Because I love him. I’m getting close. I break off the kiss and bury my face in his neck. His skin has a sheen of sweat and he’s salty on my tongue when I kiss him.
The circles his thumb traces grow erratic—he’s closer than I am.
I lean back, bracing one hand behind me on his thigh, and replace his thumb with my fingers. He grabs my hips, his eyes hot and greedy as he watches me move on top of him.
This new angle does something, his dick hitting exactly where I need it. I come apart, gasping his name. Timothy’s right there with me, jerking up and pulling my hips down and crying out afuuuuuuuckthat makes me laugh, even as my orgasm still flows over me.
