Authors: Jennifer Willows
She screamed into a face full of his crotch, and he gasped Amelia’s name into her bobbing pussy. He nearly drowned and died a happy man when her cunt spurted her sweet orgasmic nectar onto his waiting tongue. The liquid he was unable to drink from the source rolled up his face and half way into his nose. Although that was no impediment and his orgasm was on the heels of hers. But the rapid swallows around the swollen head of his cock spoke to the fact that she did a much better job than he had of not wasting the vital juices.
She tried to roll away and fall onto the soft give of the mattress but he had her tightly clasped by the hips. He couldn’t let her go. Ben wouldn’t let her go. There had never been such a feeling of well-being and joy before, not as an adult man, and not even the rest from the night before could compare to this. He had no idea when his idle curiosity had transformed into the unearthed emotions of love. But he was head over heels for her, and all he knew for certain was that it happened somewhere between now and the moment he’d first heard her voice over the phone.
“That was amazing.” Her voice was slurred, the intonation one of impassioned drunkenness.
“Sure was.” He rotated the fingers still plugged in her anus and she quivered deliciously. “Ready for round two?”
Amelia shuddered and gasped as even more of her cream sluggishly wept from her cunt. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
“Then come here.” She slowly turned around until she rested next to him on her side. He kissed her, let her taste her own juices and his sticky skin. She nipped his chin, now covered in the short bristle of emerging stubble.
“Now roll over for me and face the window.” He leaned over and picked up his wallet to locate the single precious condom that he’d gotten for Christmas two years ago. The bi-fold contained a rubber that his sister had put inside for his gag gift. He remembered what she said like it was yesterday.
“I know it’s supposed to be a joke, but I really want you to use it.” His sister, Edith, looked at him earnestly as if she truly wanted nothing more than world peace and for him to get laid to have the magic of Christmas made valid.
And now here he was using the latex sheath to make love with the woman he adored almost two years later. Amelia turned her head and he spied the hunger in her gaze as he rolled the rubber on. He took her jaw into his hands and kissed her to give himself a precious moment to regain some semblance of self-control.
Ben rubbed his hand over her exposed arm and nibbled her lip, just before he slid his hand to her knee. He lifted the limb upwards until he could feel the heat of her cunt warm his thigh.
Ahhhh, perfect.
He rocked his hips back and forth, allowed nature to take its course as their bodies fell into the angle and alignment needed to fulfill their lusts completely.
Amelia rocked against the hard pipe he nestled against her apex. The movement appeared borne of desperation as she mewled when she didn’t get what she wanted.
“Please, Ben.”
“Do you think you’re ready for this?” He asked, but she answered without words, her hands greedily fisted his cock from between her spread thighs.
“Yea, I can safely say that.” The high pitch of her voice was accented when Amelia’s head rocked backwards, the crown of her skull pinned under his chin as her spine arched.
The curve of her spine finally achieved what her machinations had not. His cock head poised at the opening to her sex flesh, wet with dew and frothy from her prior orgasms. The heat was too much to resist and Ben flexed his hips, once, twice, thrice, then again. She was extremely tight and the result was that he had to fight for every inch his cock claimed into her cunt. He couldn’t even fathom how good she felt, the wet walls sopped his shaft the way breakfast biscuits sponged up country gravy and he refused to stop sheathing himself.
He repeated the staccato thrusts until he was fully seated inside of her milking cunt. She was his best cheerleader as she cried his name repeatedly with every movement he made. The sound of his name being chanted over and over made certain his erection was harder than forged iron. Ben made sure to re-gift the length back to her as she was responsible for every thick inch of it.
“Ben… Ahhh, please Ben! I can’t take anymore… Fuck me, Ben, please!” Amelia pleaded with him for surcease, for it to never cease, and really, she wasn’t sure which she asked for.
He was so good to her body, made every organ alight like decorated Christmas trees and she never wanted the feelings to end. Each nerve she could lay claim to was his, all zipped sensations to her pussy. Even each breath she took was to support the needs of her throbbing sex. There was so much to feel around her, even the brush of his scraggly beard rasping over her skull made her cunt crave more cock.
Amelia only knew she couldn’t take the waiting game any longer. The needs had boiled into a seething, teeming mass of lust, desire, love, want, and longing that she never imagined could co-exist in the same headspace before. She wanted to feel him deeper, wanted to look at him, gaze upon him while they made love.
“I want to see you.”
“And here I thought we were out of good ideas.”
“Never that.”
“Now, I’m going to tell you this, but it’s a secret.” He whispered against her earlobe.
“What is it?” She whispered back.
“We’re going to roll over, and I’m going to fuck you hard for five, maybe ten minutes tops. But after that—” He rubbed one finger in a swirl pattern over her marred breast, where the areola should have been. It was utterly delicious to feel him caress over the flaw she kept hidden at all costs for so long.
“I’ll take option one Ben!” Amelia joked, her tone one of a cheesy game show host and he chuckled at her impression.
“Good, seeing that’s what I have to offer.” He pried their bodies apart, goaded her hips into rolling forward as his scooted backward.
The pop of his cock on exit made each of them groan. Amelia lay back this time propped onto the pillows against her spine and she wanted Ben back inside her, where he belonged. He rolled atop her and she parted her thighs to make him welcome. His thick member once again rested between her thighs and no sooner than their hips met, she rocked back and forth in an attempt to deepen their shallow penetration.
She wanted to be at one with him, only this time there was a need to see the hunger she had mirrored in his gaze.
“I thought you promised me five to ten minutes of good loving Ben.”
“Hmm, I don’t think I said the word loving at all.” The delivery the sentence was blunt, but his eyes twinkled with mirth as he said it.
She agreed, he didn’t say it, but his body told another story. “Yeah, I think you’re right about that one.”
At that second Ben shocked her when he pulled her left leg high and planted the calf atop his shoulder. His cock slid deeper and farther into her than he had before, so much so that she couldn’t keep the cry from escaping her throat.
“That’s better huh?” He asked her, but there was nothing Amelia could do to make her mouth work. The only sounds she was capable of were grunts of greedily satisfied pleasure at his in stroke, and groans of denied fulfillment when he tugged away.
Amelia never imagined she could be so wanton, as if she were capable of any act this man desired. And she would find no hesitation when she did it either. She clutched his shoulders with one hand and the other fisted his soft hair at the base of his neck. Her hips clashed with his, a duet of cymbals crashing, until finally there was nothing more to hold back.
Ben stopped just before Amelia’s orgasm crested. He ceased the incessant digs of cock inside her, slowed the rocking of his hips and he released the leg pinned skyward.
“My knee isn’t going to hold up like this… Hold on for just a minute.” He clasped each of Amelia’s hands within one of his and scooted over the edge of the bed.
His feet now stood on the bedside mat and her hips were just over the rim of mattress. Ben leaned over her, and pulled their joined hands over Amelia’s head. Her spine arched and flexed, although the angle he pinned her body into would allow only the slightest of movements. But it only took him a moment to get his footing as he slowly withdrew his cock until only the head remained sandwiched in her snatch.
However slow Ben was to retract his cock at exit, he was twice as fast to rebound back. Amelia gripped his hands to ground her in her body before she rocked into him for all she was worth. After the first few slow strokes their bodies were back at the punishing strokes of before, and Amelia reveled in it. After all of these years, she had written about good sex, imagined she knew what it was all about. But she had never experienced it. She had never known what it was that she claimed the hero and heroine of her stories experienced each time they were tossed together on the black and white of newsprint.
And damned if she hadn’t gotten most of it wrong.
Good sex was so much more than physical, it was chemical too, and a million other things that she couldn’t describe. It was all of the things that made humans special of all the animal kingdom combined into a sixth sensory organ, the sexual sense. That sense was the amalgam of everything that made humans the top of the food chain. She could smell him, so well that even if she were blind she could find him.
Her eyes were locked with his, and the intensity of emotions that welled within her chest nearly enough to ensure she had a stroke. She could taste him, even now the flavor of the contents his cock spewed into her mouth were a memory her tongue savored. She could feel him, of course how could she not? He was around her, inside her, and delighted her.
But strangely the feel of making love was completely different than the sex she had with the man she was to marry before. Why was that? She wondered, but the thought was unable to remain for long. Ben’s hips changed the angle of penetration as his cock rocked over the spot he’d caressed with his fingers just a short handful of hours ago.
“It’s so good.” He kept saying the words over and over, as if he couldn’t believe how wonderful it all felt. As she agreed, Amelia closed her eyes and panted when she nodded her head in consensus. “Glad it’s not just me.” Ben chuckled and closed his eyes.
He knelt, his lips met hers and he made one more digging foray into her heaving, swallowing snatch. The pressure, angle, Ben, the erotic aspects of everything around her combined into a fierce storm she had no control over. Just before she detonated, she remembered something.
Ben was wrong. He lasted much more than ten minutes.
Although he was right, those were the best moments of her life.
The universe imploded into a supernova of pleasure, after that all she knew was the lights went out and no one was home.
Amelia woke in a smothering blanket of heat. Every inch of her body tingled in a way that she had forgotten about after her years of celibacy. Ben was still inside of her, his cock a sticky cunt plug that marinated in their mingled juices. Damn, she had missed some key elements when she wrote her erotic novels. She had missed so much over the last years of crafting literary art that she could only be grateful that her readers hadn’t sent her mutinous emails about the lack of reality in some of her character’s sexploits.
But despite the ironic track her thoughts took, all for once was right in her world.
Ben must have felt just as exhausted as she did. He still snored heavily within repose, the drone of his breathing was hard to ignore.
I have no idea how I am supposed to sleep next to that every night?
On second thought? It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to get much sleep anyway.
She giggled, the sound was out of place, not only within her usually silent four walls, but the fact that the joyful noise emerged from her throat as well. Amelia idly stroked her hand over his skin, just took the time to enjoy the feel of him next to her as she catalogued the differences between them. Wholly perfect versus imperfect. Male versus female. Rough elbows versus crinkled knees. Anything that she could reach was hers to savor and learn while he slept on.
Amelia lazily removed herself from the physical restraints of his limbs. She crept from the bedroom with two intentions. The first was to start a meal. She was starving and she assumed that he would feel the same. That is, after he woke up. The second was to take a shower. It would be more fun with him, but in the same token, she didn’t want him to see her daily toilette. It was too private somehow, to have a man watch her go about her daily routine and she wasn’t certain if she was ready for that much intimacy.
That was laughable, too much intimacy?
It’s not like he hadn’t seen it all anyway, she thought, then chuckled again.