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We lock lips once more, a deep, hungry, urgent kiss. I grind myself against him, wriggling and moaning as my slick folds press against his hard body. I can feel his rock-hard cock and I can barely contain myself.
The cold of the wall on my back contrasts with the heat radiating from his skin, from his thick, iron rod. I crane my neck downwards—I want to watch that fat cock slide inside me.
With one hand, Luke grips the base of his shaft and teases me with this tip, brushing it over my slick lips.
I beg and moan, desperate for him to take me, to plunge into me, but my entreaties fall on deaf ears. I nibble at his neck, nipping his skin gently and playfully.
“Please, Luke,” I gasp. “Please. I want you, I need you. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
He smirks through the haze of his own lust and need. And then, finally, he gives in. “I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name when I’m done with you.”
I cry out as he enters me. His thickness stretches me as he slides in. Wet and ready as I am, his sheer size still means that he has to go slowly.
Inch by inch, he pushes inside. Gentle, tentative. I moan and I cling onto him, my fingers scrabbling and scratching at his skin.
“I’ve got you right where I want you now,” he whispers. I can feel his hot breath in my ear, his hot flesh against my own.
He thrusts a little harder and I cry out as I finally take all of him. The slick walls of my pussy are stretched to their limit and I can feel him at my very center, the core of me. He leans back a little and begins to glide in and out of me, slowly at first but soon picking up speed.
“Oh my God. You feel so good inside me,” I pant.
“I can make it feel even better,” he rasps.
I hold on for dear life, my body impaled by his manhood. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall, focusing completely on the sounds of his breathing, the gentle slapping of flesh against flesh, the delicious feeling of being filled up so completely.
Luke moves faster and faster, deeper and deeper, branding his claim on me with every thrust. His groans are guttural and loud. He presses his body harder against me, pinning me tightly to the wall.
His movements reach a feverish pitch, and I scream in wild abandonment as I feel my climax approaching. And then, with one final plunging push, his whole body tenses, every sinew strained. He roars as he finishes, his cock tensed and hard as a stone, plunged deep inside my pussy.
I give myself over to my own climax. I scream as I feel his cock pulse with his orgasm, his hot cum spurting into me. We climax together, pressed up against the wall, in an explosion of heat and power and lust. My body is wracked with each pulsing wave of my orgasm, until, with one last shudder, the two of us are spent.
It’s like the calm after the storm. Where there had been gasping and thrusting and sheer raw sexual energy, there is now only the sounds of our heavy breathing and the delicious exhaustion that only comes after good sex.
For a minute or two, neither of us move or speak. Luke still holds my weight and his cock remains inside me, still hard, still huge. When I finally summon the energy, I lean into him and kiss him, relishing the salty taste of well-earned sweat on his upper lip.
Gently, I push him away, extricating myself from him. When he puts me down on the floor, it’s all I can do to remain standing. My legs are Jell-O. I stagger over to the bed and collapse.
“Wow,” I gasp. “That was . . . something.”
He chuckles between labored breaths. “You’re really something. You wake me up from a naughty dream, and then you somehow one-up my dirty imagination.”
He comes and lays next to me on the bed.
For the second night in a row, we fall asleep in each other’s arms.
The thing is . . . I don’t want this to stop. I don’t want to let him go.
And that scares me.
Tessa
The next week at work is intense and I don’t see as much of Luke as I’d like, even though he tries to make some kind of contact every day, even if it’s just a good-night text.
After spending all this time and effort trying to distance myself from him, and then when I actually get what I want . . . I’m pining after him.
I’m trying to catch his eye as he comes out of meetings, I’m feeling irrational flashes of jealousy when I see him talking to other women, and I’m generally just feeling crappy.
