She lowers herself upon me. She sinks by only an inch, but I can feel her tightness on the head of my cock.
I groan.
She feels amazing.
Better, somehow, than I anticipated. If I hadn’t already spent, I am sure I could not bear it.
“How is that?” she says, steadying herself on my shoulders. I can no longer see her face. Her breasts are there instead.
“Good,” I say, not wanting to appear overexcited. “May I touch you?”
“Yes.”
I cup her breasts—and she slides down another inch.
“Ahhh,” I say, unable to help myself. Her breast in my hand and her quim upon me is too much. I will spend, I am sure of it. So I relinquish her breast.
“Good,” she says, seeming to understand my predicament. “I do not want you to get overwhelmed.”
“You don’t want me to spend too quickly,” I say, gritting my teeth, a tendril of humiliation snaking through me. She has had other lovers, more experienced men, who could last for hours.
“I want to savor you,” she says. “Your cock is very fine.”
The praise makes me forget anything else.
“Really?”
“Yes.” She slides down further, this time a few inches, and I can feel more of her now. Her tightness, her slickness—it is unbelievable. I understand suddenly and withclarity why people sin and keep sinning and have no regard for anything other than earthly pleasures.
“Ah, Annabelle.”
“Are you in control?”
“Yes—just—give me a moment.”
I adjust to the feel of her.
“Take a breath.”
I obey her, letting air fill my lungs. But the pleasure is nearly overwhelming. The temptation of her sweet tightness cannot be ignored.
“I-I-am-sorry,” I stutter. “It is too much.”
“No,” she says scoldingly. “You merely need to learn control. What helps?”
“I-I-am not sure. I have no notion—” But as I speak, I realize the words themselves offer a welcome distraction. I can still feel the deep pleasure but it has abated slightly. “I think—talking—talking helps me.”
“Then we’ll talk,” she says. “Tell me what you would like me to do next.”
“I want to feel all of you,” I say, the words somehow both stoking my desire and letting me control it.
“Very well.”
She slides down the remaining inches of my shaft. I fill her now to the hilt and I can feel how I stretch her. The sensation is unspeakably erotic and my spend threatens once more. Her breasts are once more level with my chest.
“I am—I am—” I don’t want to disappoint her, but I must warn her.
“Shhh,” she says. “I won’t move. Take a moment.”
