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I whimper like a spoiled brat when he stops fingering me so I can reach down low and help him shove down his pants and boxer briefs.
I look down and see the hard rod as it pops free and lands in my grip. Whoa. For a second, I come back to reality. There it is. There’s Hudson’s cock. Judging from what I knew from the outline in his sweatpants, I knew what the size would be.
I just didn’t expect it to be so…pleasant to look at? And so warm and solid and perfect in my hands. But of course, it is. It’s Hudson’s. I objectively love everything about him.
I stroke it up and down, noticing it jerk in response. I lift my eyes to watch his teeth grit, his jaw ripple. “Fuck, Frenchie.”
With a grunt of brief frustration, he pulls back from me. I know the feeling. I don’t want to stop the contact, even when necessary for practical things like removing the last layers of clothing or pausing for protection.
Hudson kicks off his bottoms completely and pauses to wrap himself in the condom in his pocket. He catches me smirking at it.
“You knew you were gonna get lucky tonight, didn’t you?” I ask.
He looks up and gives me another wicked grin, then surprises me. The next thing I know he’s sweeping me up onto his lap, his fingers finding my needy pussy again as my legs straddle him. The hardwood of the cabin’s floor rolls with another wave hitting the dock, and I work to steady my knees as I rise up to let Hudson adore my breasts. He runs his tongue over my pebbled nipple then allows it to pop out of his mouth. He rasps, “Not going to lie, I’ve wondered what they looked like underneath those cute-ass midriff shirts you wear. I knew you were beautiful. I knew, I always knew.”
“Hudson, I need you,” I rasp.
He smiles and swirls his fingers around inside my pussy lips. “Say it again and show me.”
I squeak at the wildness he’s building inside me with his movements. “I fucking need you.”
His eyes glaze over in his desire. “I believe you,” he says, popping his soaked fingers into his mouth and rolling his eyes back in his head. “I feel it, I can taste you, smell you. I’m gonna brand myself with your juice.”
To my shock, he swipes his wet hand across his chest.
I literally can’t take another second of this foreplay. And I can’t believe how fast we’re going. Is this right? Is this safe? It feels all kinds of right. But safe? I don’t know. Right now, I don’t care. I just want to give him what’s his and take what’s mine.
Hovering over the tip, my pussy gentles a kiss against Hudson’s cock. Our eyes stay locked throughout this intimate moment, his expression fervid and primal with need. That unfamiliar look on my best friend’s face alone can make me shudder with awe.
The next moment, there’s no more hesitation. I am so ready. Slick with need, I stuff that man inside me all the way to the hilt.
We cry out together, “Fuck!” and then laugh. “Jinx, buy me a Coke,” I say.
“Baby doll, I’m gonna buy you the fucking moon if you want it.”
I begin a slow grind, building my ache, gripping his cock as I slide up and down. “All I want is you.”
“You have me. And I have you, Frenchie. Let me love you. Will you let me love you forever?”
Tears of lust and emotion sting my eyes. “It’s always only been you, Hudson. I couldn’t give my heart to anyone else.”
He reaches down between us and strums my clit with his thumb. “Look at us, look at that,” he says.
For a moment, the two of us stare at the place where our bodies join together, noticing the wet slide, noticing how perfect we fit together.
The sight of it makes me gush even more, and the thrusting and grinding ramps up.
Hudson grips my hips and guides my speed on his cock, and I’m so hungry for it, so turned on that my first orgasm blasts through me like a tornado.
“I’m sorry,” I say, though I know I shouldn’t. He’s always telling me to stop apologizing. “I wanted to come at the same time.”
Hudson looks up at me and kisses each of my breasts while keeping his eyes locked on mine. “Don’t worry. You will.”
With that, he changes the angle just right and pumps, somehow hitting me in that particular spot that I never believed existed. Not at least until now.
“God, Hudson,” I moan.
“That’s my girl. That’s my Frenchie.”
