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“Yeah?” I’m already breathless because it feels so good. I start to ride him, shifting my angle until I find the one that feels best.
“Oh yeah. Fucking yeah. Oh fuck, that’s so good. You’re so fucking good.”
I giggle at his enthusiastic reply. He normally doesn’t say fuck quite so much, but I love that he can’t seem to help it at the moment.
His warm responsiveness encourages me. Spurs me on. Soon I’m bouncing on him fast and shameless, bracing myself on his shoulders and chasing a building orgasm.
He loves it. He’s bucking his hips up to intensify our motion, muttering out how hot I am, how good I’m doing, how I should keep going until I take everything I want. His hands grip my hips to hold me in place so he doesn’t slip out.
My breasts are jiggling, and my hair is flying into my face. My cheeks are hot, and my entire body is throbbing with exertion and excitement.
When I’m close, I lean backward, grabbing for his thighs behind me and arching my spine. I make a silly sobbing sound when the pleasure finally breaks.
I shudder over him as I climax. Then I feel his fingers between my thighs, fingering me until he finds my clit. He rubs it with firm, circular pressure until another orgasm rises on the heels of the first.
I’m way too loud for a hotel as I come the second time. I don’t think I’ve ever been so uninhibited in my life, and for some reason my lack of control intensifies the pleasure. I’m whimpering and sniffing as I keep moving over him. He rubs me off until the contractions have finally worked their way through me.
Then I collapse forward on top of him. His erection slips out of me in the shift of position. There’s a lot of moisture, and since he’s wearing a condom, it must all be from me.
I hear myself giggling again as I hide my face against his shoulder.
He strokes my hair and then my bottom. “Baby, you did so good.”
His soft voice encourages me enough to lift my head. “You did pretty good too.”
“I did manage not to lose it, so I’m pretty proud of myself.”
I realize he’s telling the truth. He didn’t come when I did.
I roll off him. He’s still hard. “Oh wow. I’m kind of proud of you too.”
We both laugh as he checks the condom. When he decides it might be wise to put on a new one, given our athletic performance, I’m not sure whether I should be embarrassed or pleased.
Pleased, I conclude, if the look on his face is any indication.
“That’s what happens when you have sex with a go-getter like me,” I tell him.
He chokes on a laugh. “Let me tell you, you can go get me anytime you want.”
“Good to know.”
When he’s rolled another condom on, he turns me over onto my back and moves over me again. As we kiss, we’re both still kind of laughing. I’m not sure why that makes the whole thing better—hotter—but it does.
We kiss for a minute. Then he pulls my thighs apart to make room for him there. He bends one of my legs up and slides himself back inside me. He starts to thrust slow and deep and steady.
I pull him back down into a kiss. His tongue moves to the same rhythm as his hips. I stroke his shoulders, his back, his ass, his thighs. I want to feel him everywhere.
Eventually his urgency takes over, speeding up our rhythm. I don’t actually expect to come again after the intensity of my orgasms before, but a climax takes me off guard as his pushes get harder and faster.
I gasp against his mouth as my channel tightens around him. He grunts and pulls out of the kiss as he takes me harder.
It’s intensely intimate. I’m feeling so much I’m afraid my head and chest might explode with it. I’m almost crying when he comes at last, gasping about how much he needs me, how I’m everything to him.
He’s everything to me too.
I just didn’t know it until now.
His climax wipes him out. He lets his full weight drop on me for a minute. He’s big and heavy and relaxed and limp, and it feels like I’m holding him together as I caress him, tell him how good it was, how much I need him.
