“And again when we get home. You going to let me fuck you properly?”
She nodded, her legs tightening. “However you want.”
Images of how I wanted flickered through. “Jesus, Anya.” I thrust hard, once, twice, three times more, heard her scream and then buck as she came.
I exploded inside her, pouring into her pussy and slamming her into the wall. I kissed her as we slowed down, shielding her body against mine from the rain or anyone who happened to be nearby. I should’ve taken her home first, been more tender, treated her better than a fuck against the wall, but I’d needed this.
And I think she had too.
“You okay?”
Her hands cupped my face, eyes drowsy with sex and orgasms. “I forgot how it could be. I don’t know when…”
I kissed her again, sliding my cock out of her, cupping a breast, squeezing her nipple through her top and bra.
“I’m going to take you home and do it properly. Then wake up with you in my bed and make you come again. Maybe several times. So you can’t walk tomorrow.” Her skin was creamy and soft, smooth under my hands. The five minutes it would take us to walk home seemed far too much.
“Maybe it’ll be you who gets fucked into oblivion.”
I nudged her nose with mine. “Has this just become a competition?”
“Maybe one with no loser.”
* * *
We walkedacross the field towards my house that looked empty and dark without the moonlight. I should’ve felt embarrassed about where I was taking her: to a mattress in a barn with no running water or facilities that she’d be used to, but I knew she wouldn’t care. They were only things and both of us knew that things didn’t always matter. Before the crash, I’d lived in a period property that I’d renovated the hell out of, adding modernist features and environmental details. The spec was the highest it could be and the women I took back spent as much time admiring the quality of the finish as they did me, until they saw my cock.
“I’m wet with more than just the rain.” She paused, her hand in mine, as we got to the driveway.
I grinned, knowing exactly what she meant. “Good. Get inside and I’ll dry some parts off and get you wetter elsewhere.”
“I don’t know if it’s possible.”
I flicked the lights on as we entered the barn, the space warm and dry. My paintings were lined up along one wall, the one of her half hidden by another. Facing her, I dropped down to my knees and started to lift up her dress, her pussy bare and glistening with our juices. I stood, pulling her dress over her head. She undid her bra and let it drop to the floor, leaving her naked.
“I feel like I should tell you to paint me. Like one of your French girls.”
Her words were loud against the quiet out here.
“You’re more beautiful than anyone or anything.” I meant it. I was hard again, ready to be back inside her, but we’d already rushed this once. I kissed her collar bone, softly and looked back up at her.
Her eyes were pooled with want and need, I recognized it as I knew it was held in my own. Small hands pulled up my T-shirt. I helped, throwing it to the floor and then I undid my jeans, and kicked off my trainers.
“I’ve never brought a woman back here before.” I needed to tell her. Needed to try to make her feel special.
“I’ve never had sex at the side of a bar before.”
I looked, taking in every inch of her.
“I don’t go to a gym. And I eat cake.”
“You could eat more if you wanted and still be fucking beautiful.”
She went to cover her breasts. I caught her hands and brought them down to my cock, swollen and large. “No. Don’t. This is how you’ve made me. I’m desperate to come in you again.”
I could see that the side of her leg was wet, probably leaking from her. Her legs parted, possibly subconsciously.
“My mattress is up on the mezzanine.”
