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Peter’s palms cradle my face, his touch is tender yet filled with a desperate kind of need that mirrors my own. I respond instinctively, weaving my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as we kiss. When we break apart, breathless and dazed, any remaining hesitations on my part melt away.
I slide my hands under his shirt and drag my nails across his torso. “I want you. I’m not going to second-guess what’s happening between us tonight.”
“You’re sure?” Peter’s eyes are hot on me.
It feels essential to deepen our affection. To relieve any tension between us. To see if my memories of our bond are accurate. “Yes. I’m sure.”
Peter smashes his lips against mine and we devour each other. He drags his hand up my side and we stop kissing long enough for him to take off my sweater, leaving me in a sheer, black bra.
“Jesus, Jordan. You’re as perfect as I remember.” He slips his fingers under the cup and finds my nipple. Pinches it into a tight bud, rolls it under his thumb. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
As he trails kisses from my mouth down my neck, Peter unclasps my bra, freeing my tits. He presses them together until my nipples are nearly touching and grazes one with his teeth, giving it a little tug. Pleasure shoots down to my pussy. “Ohmygod. Do it again.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiles up at me, the other nipple between his teeth.
I watch him bite down lightly and suck it into a hard point before soothing it with his tongue. I grip both of his wrists as he drives me to oblivion. Back and forth. Back and forth. He feasts on my breasts, each nip of his teeth and each swipe of his tongue sending electric shockwaves through my core.
Without me realizing it, Peter’s positioned me so I’m straddling him. Bucking against the bulge in his pants. My hand skims down his chest to his cock. It’s enormous, bigger than I remember. I rub him through his jeans until he’s panting. Make short work of his belt, buttons, and zipper.
“I’m taking your dick out.” My hand wraps around his girth and I stroke up and down his length, squeezing his crown a bit to use his precum as lube.
Then I have an idea.
I guide the head of his cock in the channel between my tits. Fascinated, we watch as he thrusts up between them. His crown nearly reaches my lips. On his second pass, I stick my tongue out and swipe it across him, swirling his sweet-salty essence in my mouth.
“Holy Christ.” Peter’s head lolls back. “You have no idea how often I’ve fantasized about fucking your gorgeous tits.” He scoots away, though, pulling his cock free. “If you do that again, it’ll be all over.”
“Fine.” I shimmy out of my jeans and panties and toss them to the ground. “We’ll save that for when you’re ready.”
Peter laughs, kicks off his shoes, his jeans, and boxers and leans against the cushion. “Fuck my face, baby. Let me make you come.”
Delighted, and needing no further encouragement, I straddle his muscular thighs right above his knees and once again get distracted by his gorgeous, thick shaft resting against his belly. “Your cock is much bigger than I remember.”
“Something a man always wants to hear.” He grins.
Fascinated, I cup Peter’s balls in one hand and tenderly massage them. He clenches his jaw when I run the palm of my other hand along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck…Jordan.”
He’s so much bigger than me, I’m not surprised when he effortlessly jackknifes up, grips my hips, lifts and places me so I’m hovering over his mouth. My knees dig into the cushion as he lowers me down and places an opened-mouth kiss on my pussy, causing my eyes to roll back in my head. Working his jaw, he tastes every part of me before sucking my clit into his mouth.
“Oh shitttttttt.” I grab the rail attached to the wall and wail when my first orgasm washes over my body.
Peter holds me in place by cupping my tits and massaging them in time to his tongue, which he’s flicking back and forth on my clit. I lose all pretense of holding myself up. I sit on his face and grind against his lips like a cat in heat. Tiny little zings morph into something insane when he pinches my nipples hard. And…I’m coming again.
Jesus. Sex with Peter is exactly how I remember.
Peter releases my tits and slides a finger into my soaking pussy, causing me to arch away. I can’t hide my loud moans when he adds a second and third and immediately finds the bundle of nerves that haven’t been triggered in years. He’s relentless. Sucking and thrusting and…
“Ahhhhhhhhh,” I cry when the third wave of pleasure overtakes me.
Before he can stop me, I shift my position—turning to face his cock. I lean over and fist it. He thrusts up into my hand and my lips seal over his crown.
“Baby, stop. I’m too worked up.” Peter bucks against me. “I don’t want to come in your mouth, I've got to be inside you.”
He slides my hips off his face and shifts me so I’m lying against his chest and my feet are on his knees. I’d forgotten the phenomenal sensation of being manhandled by him. Peter’s able to move me into positions to fuck me that shouldn't be legal. Like this one. He guides his cock to my entrance from behind and thrusts up.
I watch his thick cock disappear into my body with fascination.
It’s like déjà vu.
