Tonight, we are at their place and the consensus seems to be that I am in charge. They both have worn skintight outfits that make their asses practically pulsate, an electric sign that says “touch me.” I line them up next to each other on the bed, his thin, slender ass next to her ultra curvy, rounded one, a vision of bootyliciousness that makes me wish I had a camera other than the one in my mind. I’m not sure where to start first, because both look so delectable, I could lick and bite and taste and slap for hours.

I scrape my nails down her bare back and she wiggles, making her whole body move in the sexiest of ways. I scrape my nails from the back of her neck all the way down and don’t stop until I reach the plump flesh of her ass. When I finally do, it’s like ass nirvana, and with my left hand I stroke his curvy rump. Everything one could want from a behind is right before me, and it’s almost overwhelming. Then again, I find that ass, proffered up to me with sass and honor and eagerness, overwhelmingly delightful.

I bring each hand up in the air and let them down hard, the sounds reverberating through the room as they each wiggle in tandem, their heads turned toward each other. It’s hard to feel mean, to fire up the proper fuel for this, when they are just so dreamily in love, but I try. I turn slightly and work only my best arm, my right, and smack her ass continually, fast and hard, then move onto his, each one offering up different sensations.

I can feel his slaps travel throughout his thin body, can see more of the impact as he squirms, his toes rising up from the floor. They are holding hands as I unleash not fury but desire, that special tingle in my hand and surge in my heart as I give my all to spanking them, turning their white skin into a canvas of color, red and pink lines, abrasions I know they will feel for days on end. I feel myself blush as I look at his asscheeks, so easily bruised, so quickly reddened, angry little sparks of blood popping up from the surface, as my hand also pulses with blood and power.

I lean down and lick along his heated flesh, taking a firm bite, and he moans. They inch closer together and when I look up there are four lovely rounded curves awaiting my ministrations. I am awed at their ability to give of themselves like this; even though I know they want it, are waiting for more, it’s still an honor and privilege I don’t take lightly.

I return to her, running my hands over her lush, wonderfully overflowing cheeks. “You have such a beautiful ass, I’m surprised it’s not permanently red from being spanked all the time. How can one resist?” I lean close to her and whisper, biting her neck as I do, feeling the shiver travel down her back. I pinch and squeeze her butt, buttering her up before the real pain begins. I put my left hand on his back, to steady myself and let him know that he will be next. “Spread your legs, baby,” I tell her, and she does, just a little bit, enough to let me see a little of her juicy, pink folds, enough to make sure that she’ll be conscious of how wet she’s getting, enough room for my hand to slide up along her slit in the middle of her spanking.

I lean gently against Peter as I bring my hand back and give Nadia a good, solid whack. Her skin is so pale that my handprint appears immediately, a striking red symbol that looks totally gorgeous. I do the same to her left cheek and then pause for a moment to look at her. Nobody says anything but I notice her stick out her ass just a little further, so miniscule most people would never notice, but there it is — she wants more, and my own pussy starts to thrum when I see this.

Her ass has been beckoning to me all night, her whole body really, all fleshy curves poured into the close confines of a corset, bursting forth in all the right places, making her admirers unsure if they want to leave her sexy clothing on, or take it off and unveil her nude lusciousness. I pull her asscheek up with my left hand so it is stretched out, taut, pulling slightly against her cunt, and then smack her again, a little harder. Then again, and I feel the slap reverberate back into my hand, that slight tingle in my palm that tells me I’m doing a good job.

I rest my hand against her cheek lightly, letting my thumb slightly graze her shaved pussy, and she is even wetter than I’d expected. I slide my thumb slightly further down, letting it rest along the edges of her slit, teasing her by not moving. I scratch her back with my other hand, then reach over and run the ball of my hand hard down his back. I am dying to see his cock, to taste his hardness, but I can’t look at it now or I’ll be distracted from my mission.

Then I’m overcome with lust, and I fondle both of them, forgetting about my resolve and shoving my thumb into her cunt while my fingers rest around the opening of her ass, tapping, suggestive. I rearrange them so that he is on his knees, and I pull on his hair while slapping her fleshy, pale white ass, covering every inch of it with loud, noisy smacks that I feel all the way up my arm.

She grabs onto the sheets, pulling them almost all the way off the bed, clutching them with all her might to help shield her from this pain she wants so badly. He brings his hand to her back, stroking and holding her, letting some of the pain travel through him as I keep whacking her, tapping her now lightly with a riding crop, testing her. Her body is so fabulously responsive that I want to do everything imaginable in one fell swoop, but I pace us, keeping within her limits, caressing and punishing all at once. That is the beauty of spanking, it is tender and harsh, angry and loving, sweet and sour all mixed into one raised arm, one daring strike, one flash of insight that what she truly wants is this consecrated contact.

I place her in the middle of the large bed, then put him on top of her, a pile of playfulness that I absolutely can’t resist. I take out the paddle, my favorite one, the one that is shiny and red and always looks brand new no matter how many asses it connects with. I bring it down hard against him, rewarding him for his patience, knowing he will feel each smack deep into his bones, and she will too as he bounces on top of her, his cock boring into the crack of her ass, teasing her with its hard promise. I throw all my remaining energy, every last surge of need and want into his ass, until it is entirely red, surely painful, as he hugs her and wiggles and squirms, not knowing what he wants, only that he needs this. “Yes, yes, I-” he breaks off, a strangled cry as I smack him harder, drowning out the sound of his garbled words, not listening anymore as I unleash it all until he comes, spurting onto her back, a vision of murky white that makes me smile as I put down the paddle.

I bring us back down to earth, where our breathing returns to normal, where we smile and giggle, slightly shy again, the air around us charged with the most delicious sexual energy. I pull them up by the roots of their hair, push their faces together for a kiss, momentarily feeling slightly left out, until they turn to me, lavish me with kisses and nibbles and attention. I reach down and fondle those sore, red, tender asses, and smile because I’ve gotten double the pleasure. No triple, quadruple — hell, there’s no quantifying this glory, only hoping that we can do it again. Very, very soon.

I head over to the bar, a plush new one that’s just opened. I’ve been lucky enough to land a coveted invitation to this private party, and I know the crowd will be the cream of the crop. I could have brought a guest, but tonight is by necessity a solo excursion. I’m on a specific mission and need to conduct it in my own way. Finding the right man for a one night stand, for an electric connection that burns and sizzles as fast and hot as a firecracker, and lasts about as long, requires a unique combination of savvy and intuition and I can’t have any distractions.

Red is the theme of the night, with lush red curtains and a deep garnet shade painted on the walls. I order the watermelon martini, the night’s special, and perch on the barstool. My legs are tucked under the bar and I don’t bother to showcase them, even though I know they’re magnificent. I’m alone and know exactly what I want — a hot guy, a stud, sometime to entertain me for tonight and tonight only. Someone with a cock that’s hard and hot and needy, just for me. As I close my eyes and lean forward to sip the cold, sweet drink, I feel a presence behind me. After I swallow I slowly sit up in my chair, leaning back ever so slightly and brushing against the shirtfront of a very slick, well-dressed handsome man. Not a cute, shaggy hipster like I normally meet or a yuppie Wall Streeter straight out of college, but a real man — a little older, crisp and clean, sophisticated.

I slowly swivel my stool around to look at him, our gazes holding. My knees skim his thighs, and instead of smiling I reach for my glass and bring it to his lips. The ghost of a smile forms on his face as he lets me tilt the icy red liquid down his throat. I bring the glass back to my own lips and sip again, slowly and deliberately, still meeting his gaze. I’m vaguely aware of the crowd surging around us, the commotion at the bar, but this stranger is occupying the bulk of my attention. I have the urge to wrap my legs around his waist and draw him closer, but I stay composed. I open my mouth and am about to introduce myself, searching for a witty line, but the longer we stand there staring at each other, the more difficult words become.

Instead I take his left hand and bring it to my mouth, sliding his index finger inside and then carefully sliding it out, my tongue pressing against it the entire time. I push it back in again and repeat the process, this time lightly grazing my teeth along his slightly roughened skin. As I’m about to go for a third round, he moves his hand and trails his wet finger along my neck, ending at the neckline of my dress, his hand resting on my chest.

He reaches his hand out for mine and even though I have half a drink left, I let him lead me into the unisex single occupancy bathroom. As befits the rest of the décor, the bathroom is lush and lavish, with red tiles and smooth surfaces and a plush upholstered chair along with the sink and toilet. I look up at him, my lips slightly pursed, poised to smile or laugh or smirk, not letting him know which one it will be yet. I keep my eyes locked on his as my hand goes to his crotch, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. I like that I’m in control here, that even though I just met him I know that he’s at my mercy. He led me here but now I will be leading him. Even down on my knees I will be the one in control and that thought sends a shiver through my body. Ignoring the chair for a moment, I step closer and then drag myself down his body, my breasts sliding along his torso, my nipples hardening at the friction as I sink to the floor. It’s hard to keep my commanding gaze as I look up at him, but somehow I manage even though inside I’m melting. I close my eyes for a second as my hand reaches up reverently to stroke his cock through his pants.

I glance briefly at the chair but then realize that I like it better down here on the cold floor, the tiles pressing into my knees as I fumble with his belt buckle. I’m soaking wet and will surely have to remove my panties later but for the moment all I care about is his cock and getting it into my mouth. He helps me undo his zipper and before his pants are even pushed down his thighs I’m leaning forward, my tongue darting forth to lick a slow, teasing line along the length of his cock. I move closer so my knees are pressed up against the sides of his shoes, my legs slightly spread as I try to taste all of him at once. He sighs and groans and I look up at him for a moment, no longer smirking at all, simply acknowledging how right it feels to be here in front of him. His eyes are almost too intense and I close mine before guiding the length of his smooth, warm cock into my mouth, going slowly until I have all of him inside of me.

I try to push him deeper, to feel the tip of his cock at the back of my throat, to take him as far inside of me as I can. I hold his cock and press the tip along my throat, ecstatic, until finally sliding it out and starting the whole process all over again. I tilt my head and run my pursed lips along his cock, up and down and around, my own slippery sexual harmonica that I can play any way I want. I love the way he feels against me, how hot his cock is and every time I move to try something else like licking his balls or kissing my way along his length, I suddenly need to have him inside me again. I devour his cock, slamming it down my throat and back, rocking my whole body back and forth in a special kind of dance. As I do, my thong presses tightly against my pussy and I let out a groan of my own that reverberates against his cock. I feel like I could stay right here forever, learn every curve and crevice and nuance of his cock, and still want more.

He is enjoying it too, I can tell, but as his hands flick agitatedly from my head to my hair to his sides, I know he’s getting close and don’t want to deprive him. I slide him slowly out of my mouth, teasing him by sliding him back in slightly and then continuing. I rub my cheeks against his cock, press it against my neck, caress it and adore it. Then I spread my legs wider, into a split and look up at him before opening my mouth, sticking out my tongue and slapping his cock against it again and again. Now he really groans, louder and fiercer than before and I move faster, then shake my head back and forth, slapping my face against his cock and his cock against my face in a frenzy that makes me feel almost dizzy. I want to talk, to tell him to please come for me, to tell him how much I need his hot cum splattered all over me, to tell him how wet he’s making me, but I don’t want to ruin the mood. I think he knows how I feel though, as we thrash energetically and then he grabs my head with one hand and his cock with the other and forces his cum onto me, giving me exactly what I’d asked for as the warm whiteness spills all over my face, my lips, my hair. I lunge for his cock and suck the rest of it out of him, holding him there even after I know he’s done.

Finally I stand up, too nervous to look at him. Instead I look in the mirror and try to rearrange my hair and clothes so that it’s not quite so obvious what we’ve been doing. It feels like we’ve been here for an hour but I think it’s only been about 10 minutes, which is still long enough to annoy the bar patrons. I smooth my hair back into its barrettes, adjust my collar, splash water on my cheeks and wipe them clean. But my lips, well, my lips I leave, looking wet and moist and red and sexy. I don’t need the lip-gloss anymore to do the job for me; I’ve just done it myself. I wink at the stranger and then stroll out the door, a smile on my wet red lips.

Also, over the course of my first semester, I had totally changed my appearance. Before, I’d been a rather dowdy girl with a wardrobe of jeans and flannel shirts, my long hair flying every which way. Now I was a sexy punk rock chick with a newly styled bob, a persona that I’d longed to adopt but needed the freedom of college to really get into. I hadn’t seen Louie for a while, so in January, at the start of the new semester, Louie and I made plans on a Friday night to go see a local punk band, the Fitzgeralds, one of his favorites. I felt a reckless sense of daring that night, reveling in my newfound sexiness and enjoying getting dressed up, showing my body off to myself and to the world. All my wildest dreams were spinning through my head as I slid into my shortest black skirt, smiling into the mirror as I flicked it upwards to reveal my sexy new black silk panties. The cold be damned, I wanted to look hot! All of a sudden I felt totally free and alive, like I could have anything at all that I wanted. And that night I wanted Louie.

Somehow, lately he’d slipped into my dreams and fantasies, staying firmly lodged in my head throughout the day. When I masturbated, and stars should’ve been appearing inside my closed eyes, I saw a vision of Louie, naked. Louie wasn’t someone I was “supposed” to have the hots for; he certainly wasn’t your average hunk. He was big, overweight, fat if you will, and he wore very baggy clothes. He was also Goth, so almost all of these baggy clothes were varying shades of black. I almost fell over the first time I saw him wearing a purple shirt; he told me it was because he hadn’t had time to do the laundry.

But there was something about him that made me just want to grab him and never let go. Maybe it was his boldness, his way of telling the world that he didn’t care what they thought of him or his actions, like the way he’d quit his high profile A&R job at a major label to work as a low-paid cashier at a rinkydink record store, putting his values far ahead of his wallet. This show of dedication gave me huge respect for him; it’s pretty rare to find someone. Maybe it was his kindness, the way he truly delighted in helping his customers find even the most obscure record, and never seemed harried or annoyed — even when he really was.

I slid my hand into my panties, rubbing my clit as I fantasized about us fucking in his store, right up against the bins holding all the latest albums, The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” blaring out of the speakers. He knew all about the latest bands and scandals, but he didn’t gloat or condescend just because he knew more than most of his customers. He was happy to share with an eager fan some juicy morsel of gossip he’d picked up along the grapevine. His face, really his whole body, came so alive when he talked about music; I imagined all that energy funneled into my body, and shivered.

I pulled myself out of my fantasy, and finished getting dressed. As I slid into a tight tank top (no bra required), I thought of Louie’s face when he saw me, and pulled the tank a little lower down, and added a my leather jacket, though it was warm enough to go without. I slashed bright red lipstick across my lips and ran some black mascara across my lashes several times. I hoped he’d notice me — really notice me — tonight. Sometimes I’d think I detected a glimmer of sexual interest in his eyes, but in an instant it’d be gone, replaced by his genuine friendly interest in me. I had a suspicion that he really did like me, in that way, but felt like our age difference might get in the way. To me that was silly, though; I felt a lot older than 18, and he acted a lot younger than 35. I didn’t care that he was older, or that he worked at a record store, or about his weight. Those were incidental to the fun I had with him, and I hoped he could see beyond these artificial differences to really appreciate what I was offering. I took a last look in the mirror, decided that I looked sufficiently sirenlike, and sauntered out the door.

When I got to the club, the band wasn’t on yet and people were just milling around, talking and drinking and playing pool. I didn’t see Louie, so I hopped onto a stool and ordered a beer. I was only 18 but with a little makeup and a lot of flirting I could get served pretty much anywhere. I took long, icy sips from the bottle, playing up my sexy pose for the night for all I was worth.

I was so caught up in making eye contact with the cute bartender that I didn’t even notice when Louie arrived. “My, my,” he exclaimed, whistling as he took the seat next to me. He looked me up and down and gave me a small smile, but not exactly the enthusiastic welcome I was hoping for. “Hi,” I said, smiling brightly at him. I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He pretended that we did that all the time and went ahead and ordered a beer. I played along with his nonchalance, while in my head I thought about what it would be like to really kiss him. I had the sense that he’d be an excellent kisser, really delving into the kiss and paying much more attention than most superficially hot guys, who think that their good looks will get any girl into bed with them. The sad thing is, it’s true, most girls will hop into bed with a real hottie, but then when they get there they realize that these guys have had it so easy, they never really properly learned how to fuck. I knew that Louie wouldn’t be like that. Despite his being generally unkempt, girls flirted with him all the time because they felt safe with him. Even though he definitely liked girls, he wasn’t predatory and gross like a lot of the guys at my college, for instance. He really listened to people and talked and cared. I finished my beer and quickly ordered another one, knowing that I’d need to be at least a little drunk in order to have the courage to enact my big seduction scene.

By the time the band came on, I was so fixated on Louie that I could scarcely pay attention. We stood near the back of the room, not wanting to get squished against hundreds of sweaty drunken people. We still didn’t have a lot of room, however, so I moved us in a way so that the only place I could stand was right in front of Louie. I inched up onto the balls of my feet, trying to get a better view of the stage, and also trying to maneuver my snug ass right in front of Louie. I wiggled a little closer until I could tell that he noticed. Beneath the bulk of his layers of clothing, I could feel his dick straining to get closer to my ass. I pushed against him even harder, making no pretense of my motives. I moved to the music, sliding my ass back and forth. Emboldened by his response, I reached my right hand behind me and lifted his shirt to gently place my hand on his stomach. I gave a gentle squeeze, and heard him moan. By now we were in our own little about-to-fuck world, completely disregarding everyone around us. The band may as well have been playing “Happy Birthday” rather than raucous punk rock; the only throbbing either of us cared about was that between our legs. I turned around and licked my already red lips and then leaned forward and kissed him. It was a very wet, sloppy, mushy kiss, as our tongues lingered at the edges of our desire. I pulled back and stared into his dark eyes, needing to see them as incoherently lust-filled as mine. I felt reborn in some way, like we’d just become completely new people in each other’s arms. Suddenly, there was no time to waste.

I pushed us both against the wall and rubbed my own voluptuous body up against his, this time openly and deliberately. He reached for me, his eyes closed, but his lust clearly written across his face. We kissed deeply, almost painfully; that’s how much we needed each other at that moment. Suddenly our entire friendship and flirtation made sense, and needed to come to its natural culmination. We continued our sloppy, messy, frantic kissing for about 20 minutes, stopping to breathe but not to think.

When I finally took a small break, I noticed that my lipstick was now splayed all around his mouth, red smudged deeply into his skin. I licked a bit of it off and then stuck my tongue out at him. “Let’s go,” I said, and pulled him out the door. I hailed a cab and we pushed our way into it, giggling and toppling over onto the seat. I gave the driver directions to my house, then lay down across the seat, my head in his lap, staring up at him. He pulled my chin-length hair up above my head, stroking it. Then he started pulling it a little tighter, in a way that made me squirm. My skirt was already at a dangerously high point, riding my hips and just barely covering my privates. He put his left hand on my inner thigh and started to squeeze. I moaned and turned my head to the side and proceeded to lick the seam of his jeans, getting thrust even closer to him as the cab dodged potholes and reckless traffic. I was making his jeans quite wet with my saliva, but I didn’t care. I opened my eyes to see my pink tongue pressing tightly against the black fabric, the contrast making me wet all over again. I liked that kind of foreplay, especially because I knew it was only going to last a few more minutes, and then we could strip each other’s clothes off as quickly as we wanted to.

The taxi finally arrived at its destination, right before I completely soaked the seats of the car. We stumbled out and didn’t make it up the steps to my apartment before we were grabbing at each other again. I liked seeing him so aggressive; I’d never seen him really be sexual or talk about sex before, and had thought that maybe he just wasn’t that into it, or did it furtively and didn’t tell me about it. But now I saw that he was just as lustful as I, and we were unleashing all that sexual energy onto each other. I dragged his hands out from under my shirt and led him up the stairs. I waited as he slowly walked up the steps, smiling at him as I did a little striptease by unbuttoning my shirt. I could see his dick swelling inside his pants as he climbed the stairs and I had to rub my panties against my cunt to deal with the ache he was causing me. When he reached my doorway I led him inside, and we both backed off for a minute. We were no longer in public, anonymous territory, but in my home, my private space, and one he’d never seen before. For all our closeness and hanging out together, we’d never been in each other’s homes.

I took him on the short tour of my one bedroom apartment, hanging up his coat and getting him a glass of water. I went to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face. I didn’t want to think too hard about what we were about to do, but I couldn’t hide, even to myself, the nervous feeling that was dangling right underneath my desire. I didn’t want to ruin anything with him, only to improve upon what we already had. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and silently told myself it would all be fine.

I left the bathroom and went back to the living room chair where I’d left Louie sipping his water, only to find the chair empty. “Hello?” I didn’t get a response. I found him lying on his back on my queen size bed, naked, frantically pumping his cock up and down. His eyes were closed and his whole body was twitching, on the verge of orgasm. I stood and silently watched him, his layers of skin and flesh shaking and jiggling as his hand tried to keep up with the spasms of his cock. His movements got more and more frantic and I stood, transfixed, as finally he burst out with a delighted, tortured scream as his come arced through the air and landed in a fine splattering across my delicate white walls.

I clapped my hands to let him know I’d enjoyed his show. He’d been so caught up in his own dramatic fun that he hadn’t noticed me standing there. I still had on my tank top and skirt and I walked to the bed and leaned over his sweaty body. “Hi,” I said, summoning up my sexiest voice. He looked like he hadn’t a drop of energy left, but I was determined to make him summon up his reserves. I hiked up my skirt and straddled him, balancing on my feet but letting my ass fall onto his lower stomach. I reached up towards his hair and curled it around my fingers. “Did you have fun?” I asked, teasing again. He smiled at me and reached for my hands. We held hands, pushing against each other, as I slid my ass down a little so that my bottom rested against his slowly hardening cock. I pushed his hands down towards the bed, and he understood that that’s where I wanted them to stay. I stood up, towering above him, feeling big and powerful, which was hard to do with him being so much larger than me physically. I had to find a way to even out my feeling that because I was smaller, I was in some way sexually weaker. That feeling eased as I saw that he wanted me enough to do just about anything I asked.

I walked forward, stepping out of my black panties as I went. I stopped when I was standing directly over his head, so he couldn’t help but stare straight up into my slick, shiny-smooth cunt. I pulled my skirt up all the way, so that it went up instead of down, to give him the full view. I spread my legs even wider and began to touch my clit while rocking back and forth with my hips. I stared at Louie’s face the whole time, watching his cheeks turn flushed and pink as my pussy did the same. After a few minutes of making myself utterly wet and tasty, I removed my fingers from my cunt and lowered myself down to the bed, putting my wet fingers into Louie’s mouth. He sucked on them hungrily, drawing them all the way in, wanting to gobble me up. I pushed my hand into his mouth, like I was trying to fist him, working it in and out, sliding back and forth.

His tongue slid along the underside of my hand, arousing me in places I didn’t know could do that for me. I shed my shirt and skirt in a quick motion and then lay down on top of him, putting my fingers back into his mouth. He was just as eager this time even though all the scent of my pussy juices had long vanished. I pulled my hand back out and ran it down his chest. I grabbed his ample skin, squeezing as I moved downwards. I always like to squeeze a guy’s stomach; I have this theory that because it’s pretty near their dick, it’s extra sensitive and helps them get more aroused. In Louie’s case this was definitely true. As I massaged and pulled at his rolls of fat, his dick jumped around of its own volition, big and hard and pink, demanding attention. I really liked touching his skin, feeling where he was hairy to my smoothness, figuring out which spots drove him wild, but his cock wasn’t having it. I had to take pity on it or it looked like it might explode.

I reached over to my side table and got out a condom. I tore it open, tossed the wrapper on the ground and slowly rolled it down his incredibly swollen cock. He’d been laying there pretty quietly all this while, letting me have my fun and enjoy my explorations, but now he grabbed me. “Can we do it like this?” he asked, motioning towards having me lie down. I told him it would be ok, as long as he let me get comfortable first. I lay down on my back and spread my legs as far apart as I could.

He rolled over and positioned his cock at the entrance to my cunt, teasing my clit with the tip of his cock first. Then, just when I was starting to pant from the pleasure in my clit, he started sliding his cock inside me. It felt too big, too much, like it would stretch me out forever. Then, in a flash, that feeling left and it felt just right, just like Goldilocks. I felt filled and stretched, but I wanted it, and I started to move against him. He felt heavy lying on top of me, and I regretted that I couldn’t put my arms all the way around him, but I liked feeling him on me, everywhere. When I fuck a guy and I’m on top, my back gets cold and I sometimes feel unprotected, like I might fly off into the sky through the power of my orgasm. Now I felt safe and snug and warm and tight, cushioned perfectly against him.

I squeezed my nipples and felt a corresponding twinge in my cunt. I was trying to control how and when I squeezed, but I was starting to lose all sense of control. I pushed my head back into the mattress and shut my eyes tightly, gritting my teeth and holding my breath, while my right hand pushed my clit around in circles. I peeked at Louie to see him sliding his cock almost mechanically in and out, in and out, in and out, not slowly but not incredibly quickly either. This repetition helped get me even more wet and worked up.

I sat up, leaning back against my elbows and moved my hips even closer to him. “Deeper,” I instructed him, and he complied, pushing all the way inside me so that my ass started to spasm as well. He must have known this because he reached behind me and stuck the tip of one his big, meaty fingers delicately into my ass, sending me totally over the edge. He pushed his cock as deep as he could, and did the same with his finger, and it was all I could do to not burst into tears. I had nowhere to move, only outward, and I did, exploding all over his dick.

He pulled his finger out of my ass, pushed me down onto the bed and lay on top of me as I’d done before. He reached for my wrists, pinned them down, and started to pump away, going faster because I was so slick with juices. His breathing got heavier and heavier and his eyes, right before they closed, looked lost and far away. He started to grunt, an animal sound coming from deep in his stomach, before opening his eyes and coming with a roar. I felt his cock slam into me one final time, then release its explosion, then soften. He pulled out of me then pulled me on top of him. I nuzzled against him, not wanting to lose the contact of skin on skin, the warmth and safety and sweetness he offered me.

We looked at each other and at the same time, asked, “Why’d we wait so long to do this?”

I didn’t know the answer, only that I didn’t plan to wait any longer.