Finally, fucking finally, she takes me to the hilt. She’s resting her head on my shoulder, panting, and I’m biting hershoulder, still trying to hold back. The feeling of my bare skin in her wet heat is killing me.
“Move, Georgia. Please,” I practically beg.
She lifts her head and looks at me. We stare at one another for a moment, and I notice the little details of her face, the angle of her nose, the freckles sprinkled across, the thickness of her eyelashes surrounding the blue of her eyes. The red of her lipstick, the fullness of her lips.
She smirks at me, then tightens her inner muscles surrounding my dick.
I lose control, then.
I pick her body up, then slam it down as I thrust up. She screams.
We’refuckingnow, really and truly fucking, as I work her hips back and forth on top of me, making sure her clit hits my pelvic bone with every pass. I mutter pure filth into her ear, “take it, princess”, “feels so good, fucking you bare”, taking my thumbs and pressing down on her nipples, hard.
I need more control than this position offers me, so I flip us over, laying her horizontally on the couch and getting on top, lifting one of her legs onto my shoulder, putting one foot down on the floor for better leverage. She is babbling, eyes squeezed shut, “so good”, “don’t stop”, “right there”.
She moves a hand down to her clit, but I slap it away. “This is my body to use, remember?”. I spit on her clit and start working the moisture in tight circles with my thumb and adjust my angle so I hit her favorite spot.
“Yes, yes, there, there,there, Oliver.”
Release builds at the base of my spine. I feel her inner muscles, watch her body tighten, familiar now with her tells. “Give it to me, Georgia.”
Ifeelher come apart this time, and it’s officially my new favorite thing. She’s screaming, moaning, and I’mclose, so close, but I let her grind on my dick to ride out her aftershocks.
“Georgia, where?” I ask her, teeth clenched.
She opens her eyes and blinks at me. “Come on my tits,” and with those words, I pull out and finish myself off with my hand, painting her beautiful body with a groan.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” as it scissors up through my belly and explodes up my chest, and I’m dying from what is possibly the strongest orgasm ever experienced by humanity.
I collapse next to Georgia, lying between her body and the back of the couch. I rest an arm over my eyes, trying like hell to catch my breath. “Fuck.”
She is silent, body loose and relaxed next to me. She wraps her arm around my head and runs my fingers through my hair instead, petting me like a cat.
I open my eyes and turn my head, surprised at her tenderness. We look at one another for a moment, and I can’t help but kiss her, our tongues meeting softly, so at odds with the way we were mauling each other’s faces a moment ago.
I look down at her perfect body. Unable to resist, I smear my come all over her chest, rubbing it in circles around her nipple, slowly, gently. Her nipple gets hard and tight again, and she shivers.
I nip her ear. “I think I like the sight of this a little too much,” I whisper.
“How am I still turned on right now?” she asks me, outraged. “How does that still feel good?”
I laugh, genuinely amused. Then I’m silent, replaying everything in my head. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
She pulls away, looking at me incredulously. “Of course I’m okay, Oliver—fuck you. That was the most insane… Outrageous… Best sex I’ve ever had entire life, fuck you very much.”
I chuckle, incredibly relieved. I resume my rubbing all overher body, around her tits, into her center. “I loved being able to finally teach you a lesson,” I tell her, with a slap to her clit.
She yelps, giving me a full body shudder.
I nuzzle the side of her face, unable to resist. “You’re just so beautiful. Your body is fucking perfect. Like it was made to take me…” Her hips start moving on their own accord, in tune with the way I rub tight circles around her clit. “Look at you. You’re a mess, gorgeous. Wearing my come, lipstick all over your face, all over me.”
Her body is responding again, and I feel myself getting harder against her thigh. I grind it into her. “Are you for real right now, Oliver?”
I grin. “We have to make this night count, Georgia. Let’s get in the shower and get cleaned up.”
The shower is a blur of senses, the scent of her shampoo, the glide of her body wash against my fingers, working her body; her hands working mine. The taste of her core, the weight of a leg draped over my shoulder, the sharp pull of her tugging my hair. The sounds of her moans. The sight of her skin, clean, flushed pink from my ministrations and the heat of the shower. The coolness of the air as we vacate the shower, and I carry her into her bedroom, throwing her on her bed.
I like that she doesn’t apologize for the mess in her room.
