I like a lot of things; I realize. Like how she lets me take control. Like that when I climb over her, straddling her stomach, pushing her breasts together to fuck them, that she leans over to her bedside table and hands me a bottle of lube. Like the feeling of her tongue meeting each thrust I make between her slippery tits.
I like the way she screams into her pillow after I force her on all fours, pressing her head down as I go to town. I like theway her ass ripples when I spank it. I die over the feeling of her orgasm around my dick. I like when she holds onto the slats of her headboard, meeting every single one of my thrusts. I like the way her ass looks, splattered with my come.
I like the way her warm body feels under the heat of another shower. I like when she gives me advanced consent to wake her up with morning sex, with a knowing grin on her face. I like that she knows that I’m staying. I like a little too much, I think, the way her soft body feels when she falls asleep in my arms.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Georgia
The thingabout being an educator is, you have to wake up so early for school that you learn to know the time based on the way the light looks through your window.
I know that it’s probably around five thirty in the morning, then, when I am woken up by the feeling of rough hands massaging my nipples and a hard, massive dick sliding back and forth against my inexplicably wet pussy. I whimper.
Both of us are on our sides, under the covers. Oliver’s hard body is wrapped around me, spooning me, thrusting slowly.
“Morning, Chaos,” he growls in my ear, and the sound of his hoarse morning voice in the morning releases another wave of wetness. “Let me in,” he commands.
I tilt my hips back, and he slowly presses in, inch by inch, one long, continuous movement, his hand steady on my hips. The feeling of the bare skin of his cock is sublime. We both groan when he reaches the hilt, and he gives me a moment to adjust.
“I’m a little obsessed with this,” he whispers in my ear, and he starts a slow, gentle roll of his hips, making sure I feel every inch of him. He puts his fingers in my mouth, the padsrough on my tongue, and I suck on them lightly, before he pulls them out and uses the wetness to circle my nipple, the same slow and gentle rhythm he’s using to fuck me.
I want to die and scream and laugh, all at the same time, at the feeling of fullness, at the sheer fucking perfection.
“I’mextremelyobsessed with this,” I gasp, and he chuckles without messing with his rhythm.
His hands wander all over my body, caressing my curves. He murmurs soft compliments and affirmations in my ear, licking and nipping at my neck. I feel worshipped. “How is it like this?” I ask nonsensically, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t know,” he answers, seeming to understand. “But I don’t know if I can stop.” He angles his hips so that he’s rubbing at the spot that he found several times last night, a spot that has remained hidden from any others in the past. “There it is,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Can you come like this?”
“It feels amazing—but I don’t know. I don’t think so,” I tell him.
“Do you have a vibrator in your bedside table?”
I almost come from the thought alone. “Yes,” I say, and I reach over and grab it.
He takes it from me, reads the buttons, figures out the settings, all while continuing to move inside me. “Did you use this thinking of me, Georgia?”
“Every night since this weekend,” I tell him, with no shame. I feel him grow impossibly harder inside me.
“Good girl.” He turns the vibrator on medium speed and rubs tight circles on my nipple, andthere it is. My body begins a familiar ascent up.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I’m chanting as he sucks on my neck, moving his hips faster.
“I feel you squeezing my dick,” he groans.
He moves the vibrator then, right where I need it, rampingthe speed up to high and resting directly on my clit. His thrusts grow harder, our skin slapping loudly in the dark room.
“Where, Georgia?”
I’ve lost my mind. “Come inside me.”
Growling, Oliver uses the hand that’s been tucked under my body to reach up and twist my nipple, hard, and?—
I am transcendent. I’m screaming, the force of my orgasm bending my spine backwards. Somewhere behind me I feel Oliver’s thrusts become erratic, hear a long groan as he spills himself inside me.
His thrusts slow, our breaths heavy, as we both come down from our highs.
I turn to lie on my back, laughing and feeling a little bit hysterical.
