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I reach down and grab her ass. Her fleshy butt cheeks, free from those damn tight jeans, feel cool in my hands.
I roughly kiss her again, and let it play out that I’m just fucking her to get off. All the while I think I’m falling for her.
“Begging me to fuck you, gets you fucked.” I lift her up, and using my muscular right thigh for balance, I line up the tip of my cock with her soaking entrance.
“Ack,” she gasps from being hoisted up. “Put me down. I’m too heavy.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re perfect. Every fucking inch of you was built for me and what I’mabout to do to this gorgeous cunt.”
“When you put it that way...” She kisses me and the spunkiness in her voice reminds me that sex should be fun. “Oh my God.”
“That’s my cock ready to breach you, sugar.” I gasp when she clenches around the bulging tip, sucking me in. “Take it. Take all of me like a good girl. Take every fucking inch of me, so damn deep.”
“Yes, please!”
“Fuck, Bernadette.” I push inside, and glide her up and down my cock, sweat trickling down my back. “Look what you got me doing? Fucking you in my foyer.”
“I couldn’t wait.”
“Your cunt feels so good, sugar. You take my cock so well.”
“Ford, I’m coming. My God, it’s so good.”
“I want to fuck this tight cunt all night. But Christ, you clenching me like that with your dripping wet pussy is bringing me to the edge.”
“Come. Come inside me, Ford.” She firmly grips my biceps as I work her up and down my cock. “Oh, oh, Ford!”
My balls tighten and my spine vibrates. I thrust harder as waves of pleasure like I’ve never known shatter me.
I hold on as her cunt pulses around my cock and milks the last drops of motherfucking cum right out of me.
God, I’m so fucked, but I can’t get enough of this woman.
Maybe I’m not supposed to get enough.
I kiss her to push away the guilt flooding my conscience.
“Christ, sugar. I’m sorry.” I step back and try not to meet her eyes, but I can’t goddamn help it.
“For what?” She pulls her sweater down, nervous all of a sudden. “What are you sorry for?”
For not fucking you sooner. Clearly, we’re amazing at it.
But I can’t say that.
“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable staying here. That I’ll be asking for this every night.”
“You can have sex like this every night?”
“Maybe in a week or so,” I joke.
She has me joking.
I don’t joke.
I don’t laugh.
What the hell is happening to me?
