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I slip a finger into her pussy, my body screaming to give her what she wants as she contracts around me. “Not yet, sweetness. First, I want to see you come apart in my arms and I don’t want any distractions.”
Her thighs start shaking and I know she’s close. Serena’s hips are undulating, her tits bouncing in my face and her wetness is soaking my jeans. She’s like a painting, vibrant and magnetic and I want to memorize the way she bites her lip, the dark fan of lashes fluttering against her pink cheeks. My jaw is about to crack, and my cock too, from the tension humming inside my body. “You’re so hot, sweetness. When I finally get inside you, I don’t want it to hurt. I want to feel how desperate this sweet pussy is for release.” I lick my tongue up over the little cherries dangling in my face, loving the way her voice shudders as she repeats my name.
“I can’t wait, Owen.”
“Don’t. Use me. Ride me until you see stars.” I press my finger deeper, spreading her lips wider so she can feel the seam brushing her through the soaked silk of her panties. Her mouth is open, and her hands are in my hair, dragging me up for a kiss. I really don’t want to miss a minute of what I know is going to be a spectacular climax, but I can’t resist the frantic way she grabs me, the little mewls she’s making while she writhes over me. I somehow find the strength to pull my hand away from her, grasping her ass hard as she bounces on my lap, breath sawing in and out, tits heaving as she comes apart in my arms.
Before she’s finished shuddering, I lift her off and rip at my zipper, tripping over my pants to get back to her. Somehow, I remember the condoms I always keep in my bag, and manage to roll one on, the flex of my own hand almost doing me in at this point. I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted her primed and ready for me. I’m not a small man, and nothing is worse than seeing the pinch in my partner’s eyes if I hurt her.
“Oh. My. God.” Serena’s soft whisper has my head snapping up.
Her eyes are wide. “Are you some kind of machine?”
“What do you mean?”
She lifts up on her elbows. “You’re beautiful. Like a sculpture.” Her gaze drops to my cock. “A very large sculpture.” She crooks a finger. “Come here.”
4
Serena
I’ve never felt so desperate. And that’s after the most incredible orgasm I’ve ever had. He’s overwhelming, the way he stroked and fondled me until I came on his lap, lightning streaking through my body. A stranger who knew my body better than me.
A stranger with a body like a god. Holy Christ, I didn’t know they built them like this. Heat floods me again, my pussy clenching around emptiness as I watch him roll the condom on. He’s huge everywhere. My brain stutters as the bed dips and he’s over me. I’m not a tiny girl by any stretch of the imagination, but Owen makes me feel positively doll-like.
He clasps my face in his big hands. “I don’t know if I can be slow, but you only need to say ‘stop’ and we’ll stop, okay?”
The tender rasp in his voice brings a funny sheen to my eyes. I don’t know this guy. I don’t even know his last name, but already this interlude, this one-night stand with a stranger makes me feel more cherished than I can ever remember.
I blink it away and nod. Owen dips his mouth to mine, a coaxing kiss that makes the ache in my body rise as he glides one hand down between us, stroking me gently until I feel the blunt head of his cock stretching me. It feels bigger than it looks, but between his fingers and the way he holds himself, his chest brushing my nipples and the way he licks the curve of my collarbone, I’m overwhelmed by sensation. He thrusts and I groan which causes him to still immediately.
“Does it hurt?” His voice is a deep rumble against my chest, and I shake my head, trying to widen my legs and wiggle against him to show him just how much it doesn’t hurt.
“Don’t stop.” Somehow the fullness of him is hitting me in places I’d swear have never been stroked before. I try to jut my hips up, but his weight is just too much.
He chuckles at my movements. “Greedy little girl.” He shifts, stretching me with his fingers so that every stroke drags against my clit. Sparks shoot through my body as he starts to thrust, and my nails claw his shoulders. In response he nips at my neck, and something uncoils inside me. He nuzzles my ear. “You feel so fucking good.”
I shiver under him. The deep rasp of his voice makes me hotter and maybe it’s because I don’t know him and I’ll never see him again, but I want to be bold for once. I move my hands to my breasts, plumping them, tweaking the nipples as his gaze darkens. “How good?” I ask.
“Are you putting these gorgeous tits in front my mouth for a reason, Sweetness?” He dips his head dragging the tip of his tongue over the peak. “Do you like this?” He drives his cock into me as his lips latch on to my nipple, sucking hard as he thrusts deeper. He releases it, lashing it with his tongue one last time. “Oh yeah, you love it. Your tight little pussy is squeezing my cock so hard.” He emphasizes his words with thick, steady strokes and I’ve lost the thread as I moan under him, uncaring about anything other than the way he’s making me feel. My body shakes, as the pleasure builds and he continues to growl dirty, delicious things into my ear, pounding me into the mattress beneath him until I break apart, clawing at his back as sensation drowns me. Still, I open heavy lids to watch the tendons straining in his neck, that beautiful jaw clenched tight as he comes. He shudders and buries himself deep and I can feel my pussy still contracting around him as he holds his hips against mine.
When the sparkles fade, my body is still pulsating as he reaches between us to pull out and he drops a kiss to my shoulder. “Fucking amazing, Sweetness. Let me just deal with this and I’ll be right back.”
I can barely move but I think I nod. I’m drifting on the kind of post-coital bliss I’ve only read about in books. The bed dips and a strong hand caresses my jaw. My eyes flutter open.
“You okay?” he murmurs?
I’m better than okay. And when he asks if I’d like a foot massage, I think I might have to pinch myself. He rubs my aching insoles before wrapping them in a warm, fluffy facecloth and I bite my lip to keep from moaning. Is this guy for real? I remember the comment about my boots; maybe he has a foot fetish. My brain twists and turns about whether or not I care, and if this guy can make me feel that good and follow it up withthis? His fingers are like magic, and my toes curl as his big hand glides up my calf.
This is dangerous territory. This is me reading more into a one-night than I should. Next thing you know, we’ll exchange information and then I’ll text him in a moment of weakness, because I won’t be able to stop thinking aboutthis.Owen gently squeezes my foot, and I find myself imagining that he’s a physiotherapist or a doctor.
“You’re so pretty everywhere.” He bends my leg, pressing a little kiss on the inside of my knee.
“You’re a full-service kind of guy, aren’t you? Where’d you learn to do this?”
“Here and there.”
“So mysterious.” I bite my lip. Am I angling for information? Damn right I am. But I shouldn’t because as much fun as this is, with my track record, I need to leave it as a hot, happy memory rather than feel the burn of disappointment and humiliation when, eventually, my texts will go unanswered. Or worse, we’ll meet up again to try and recreate this and it will be terrible and awkward and then I’ll get ghosted.
