We got to her bedroom and began to make love. The room was dark. I quickly wanted inside. I was hungry for her, greedy. Nothing languid and slow in my thrusts.
She began whispering to me and told me a story about a bell boy at the hotel she’d visited that morning.
I leaned into her. “What about Ed?” Her ex, she’d fucked on her trip home.
“You want to hear the whole story?” she whispered quietly to me as I thrust into her.
“God, yes,” I huffed. I swelled.
She began going through the details. She sat on his face, something she’d only done once with me. “I liked the feeling.” She’d sucked him. He’d fingered her while she orgasmed. I burned and thrust and weighed into her deeper and deeper as I listened.
She was hypnotizing me. I wanted to wrap her into me, merge and man I tried. I thickened and soared.
He got behind her to fuck her. She’d played with herself while he did. She heard, felt him building, going in harder, and then he came in her.
I was breathless, the wave rising hard and fast in me. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so solid with desire, so completely wanting. I pinned her, thrust and drove in, my cock, I swear, nudging the back of her womb as my groan turned to a cry.
I poured myself out and into her and came. I finished breathless, gasping, burying my head in her neck. I could hear her half giggle and hug me against her nakedness tightly, clinging. Could smell her breath.
I pulled back to look at her. She was grinning, Cheshire Cat-like. I shook my head. She looked young, awoken, more feminine. She had taken all I had to offer.
“Baby,” I huffed worn out, “you liked that didn’t you?”
She interrupted, broke into a laugh, brightening as though she lit a new light in her soul, surprised at herself, her words rang out, “I did! I did!”