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Sara slumps against me, and I remove my hand from her wet cunt with reluctance. She’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling under my palm.
I slide both hands down her to her ass and pick her up. Her arms loop around me, and she snuggles into my neck. Her eyelashes brush the sensitive skin with every blink.
In my room, I lay Sara on the bed and help her strip off her clothes. I kiss the soft skin on her belly, the tight pink nipples, the inside of her thigh.
Her breasts, freed from her sports bra, are perfect. They are soft and fill my hands just right as I cup them and bring her nipples closer together so I can tease them with my lips and tongue. I worship them while Sara sighs and threads her fingers through my hair.
I pull back and strip my own clothes off, gratified when I bring my gaze back to Sara and she’s propped up on her elbows, watching my body.
My dick is so hard it aches. It bobs between us as I crawl up the bed, covering her and returning to her sweet mouth. Her knees press against my hips, squeezing and urging.
There is a strip of condoms in the nightstand, and I rip myself away from her to unwrap and slide one on. I hitch my leg up, nudging her thighs farther apart, and grip the base of my shaft with one hand.
The other tangles with hers, and as I press into her heat, I kiss her. I’m chest-to-chest with her as I flex and press in.
I thread my right hand through her fingers to clasp both sets of hands together above her head. I watch every flutter of her eyes, feel every gasp of air against my lips.
Finally, I’m flush with the cradle of her hips. I sink my weight into her and rock, letting the feeling in the base of my spine build.
My forehead rests against hers. We’re both sweating, and I love the noises she makes every time I hit deep.
“Do you like that, babe?”
I kiss her before she can answer, open and loose. When I pull back, she looks drugged.
“Yeah, I like it. I like the way you feel.”
“Wrap your legs around me.” She does, hooking her ankles together and lifting her ass up.
“Oh god. That feels good.” I thrust a little harder and she squeaks at the last syllable.
I squeeze her hands, pressing them into the mattress. “You like that? Are you going to come for me again?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Tell me how to make you come. Tell me what you fantasize about. Tell me how you touch yourself. Tell me how to make it so fucking good for you.”
Sara’s eyes focus on me for a moment, and she laughs. “God, you’re an overachiever.”
I kiss through her smile, and she sighs. “Later, I want to come on your face. Right now, I want to feel you.” She pulls at my right hand, and when I relax my grip, she brings our joined hands closer so she can kiss my fingers. Then she grazes a knuckle with her teeth. “Please, Chris.”
I bury deeper into her, using the small amount of space I have to piston my hips as much as I can. Her thighs tighten around me, and her eyes close in pleasure.
With every stroke, Sara’s body tightens. Even if she’s not going to come from this, I am entranced by the flutter of her eyelashes, the press of her breasts against my chest. I’m so engrossed that, embarrassingly, my own orgasm sneaks up on me.
“Oh, fuck, Sara, I’m coming,” I grit my teeth against the pleasure shooting up my body and pulse deep inside of her.
Sara arches against me and murmurs, “Oh god, yes.”
When my body relaxes, I slump forward, my forehead on the mattress next to her, my mouth by her ear. We’re both breathing hard, our fingers still tightly clasped.
Sara stretches her hands, and I let her go, flexing to get the circulation back. I carefully roll my weight off Sara.
She lifts her head, and I wiggle my arm underneath her, lying on my side and pulling her into my body.
We’ve just proven that, despite our differences, we are very compatible in the bedroom.
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