Money Shot (47 page)

I giggled. He was funny. I appreciated humor, even when I was naked. “I’m more naked than you are.”

“True.” He stripped off his shirt and undershirt. “Better?” He had so many tattoos, and I was sure that all of them had stories.

“Much.” I sat up. I started to kiss his neck and made my way down his chest to his happy trail. He was beautifully manscaped, and I appreciated that. There were drops of precum on his head, and I drank them up. Delicious. I gently explored his dick and balls to see where his hotspots were. He had a lot of them, if his moans were anything to go by. He was breathing pretty hard, but I thought that he was fit enough to take it.

All of a sudden, he had me on my back again. “No more waiting.” He parted my thighs and put his fingers inside of my wetness. He licked it off his fingers. “I like.”

He didn’t waste any more time on pleasantries and sank into me. I could not breathe. It was too much. Too full.

“Hold on.” I gasped. “Need a second.”

He stilled. “Okay?”

I breathed a long breath in. I nodded. “More.”

He gave it to me, harder, faster, stronger, better than any other man I’d ever had. He didn’t even stop when I screamed through my first orgasm. He just kept riding me hard.

When I came the second time, it set him off. He groaned as he shot into me. His dick was still as big as it was when we started.

“Moreplay?” I asked him.

He nodded. I took his dick into my mouth again, this time coated with both his and my juices, but just the tip. I put it through my boobs, and he began thrusting. It looked like his recovery time was zero.

“I don’t want to come on your tits. On your hands and knees,” he told me. I turned. There wasn’t that much room, and my butt backed up straight into his face.

He ate me out from behind. His tongue was inside of my pussy, slowly rolling in a steady rhythm. He held my cheeks apart and pulled a finger covered in my cum towards my ass. He gently lubed it up and put the tip of his finger in.

I tensed up a lot. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

“Relax. I’m not fucking your ass. Just exploring.”

I tried to relax as he pushed a little deeper in. It felt so different, but so good. He could feel my muscles relax.

“Good,” he praised. “Now, spread your thighs further apart.” I put my knees on the edges of the bed. Gymnast, remember? He pushed me down between my shoulder blades, so my face was pushed into the mattress. His gigantic cock pushed inside me again, filling me up just like the first time. If possible, he was bigger. I was still slick inside, and there wasn’t too much friction as he thrust so hard that he moved the bed forward and back.

I didn’t know that I could orgasm this many times, but I orgasmed a third time. He grabbed my hips and went wild. I felt him get close, and he spurted. He pulled me so that I was laying on my side, and we spooned with his dick still inside of me. He kissed my hair and ran his hand down my body.

“That was great.”

“Yeah, it was. Do you want more?”

“You’re insatiable.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I think you’re trying to kill me. I can’t go that many times. Hell, I’ve never gone twice in a row that fast before.”

I pouted. “Ok.” He pulled out of me. I felt empty and cold inside where his warmth and heat used to be.

“I need to clean up.” He got out of bed and headed for my bathroom. I could hear the water running and him moving around. I lay back down in bed, feeling how sticky and sore I was. The good kind of sore.

He came back out.

“Do you want to spend the night?”

He cast a dubious look at my bed. “Your bed is pretty small.”

“We’ll make it work.” I let the covers drop. He looked at my breasts, still marked from us rolling around together.

“Okay.” He smiled.

I made room for him to climb under the covers with me, and I wrapped myself around him, still sticky between my thighs.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Shower

Violet

I woke up to his mouth licking, sucking, and biting my breasts. My wrists were tied up above my head with the stretchy hairband I’d had gone to sleep with.

“Mmm. Good morning.”

“Good morning, Lady.” He neglected my poor breasts to go straight south to my clit. He hit me just right—the right rhythm and the right pressure. His stubble abraded my thighs, and I arched toward him.

As if that were a sign, he pushed my knees to my chest and had me again. I tried to wrap my legs around him, but he pushed my knees under his shoulders and fucked me even harder. My hands were still bound, and I was helpless.

The demanding rhythm got me first, and I fell over the cliff. He felt me go, and he leaned over to kiss me and tongue fuck me in the same rhythm as he was pounding me. He groaned, and I felt him shoot inside of me. I was getting even stickier. He let me bring my legs down, and he put his head on my breasts.

“Shower?” I said to the top of his head.

“Shower. When my legs work.”

He lay there for a few moments, on top of me. Then, he got off the bed and pulled me up, threshold style, into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and got in with me. He untied my hands; my hairband was the only stitch of clothing I wore. Handy that we were already naked.

He soaped his hands up and slicked them over every inch of my skin. I returned the favor, paying special attention to his six pack and his dick.

He grinned. “Two can play that game.” He pulled my hair so that my head tilted back. He practically bruised my lips with the force of his kiss. His other hand was sliding into me and finding wetness that the shower couldn’t account for.

He picked me up again and pinned me to the shower wall with his body. He slid into me with no resistance, and it felt incredible to be under the spray of warm water as he pushed me hard against the wall and tongue-fucked my mouth.

I didn’t last long there, and neither did he. He came as I did, quickly. We let the shower rinse us off, and we each shampooed our own hair, not least because I couldn’t reach his head to shampoo it thoroughly.

When we were squeaky clean, he toweled me off. He used the towel to pull me in for another kiss. All that drying went to waste, as I was pulled up against his still-wet body. I didn’t mind.

I’d never had this level of perfect intimacy with anybody before. If the sex that we had was like fire, this sweet intimacy was like being filled with sunlight. I felt like I could move mountains when I was loved like this.

He pulled away from the kiss, but he still had me wrapped tight in the towel. He picked me up.

Again

Violet

I felt the ground drop away from my feet as strong arms wrapped around my torso. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him. I didn’t want to fall. My arms were wrapped around his neck. I was staring straight into his crystal blue eyes. His mouth was less than an inch away from mine.

I felt the softness of his mattress beneath my butt, but he was still holding on tight.

He started kissing my neck. My neck was forever my kryptonite. Somehow, he remembered that I couldn’t resist anybody who gave me pleasure there, and I orgasmed like a rocket.

“Say yes,” he whispered into my neck.

“Yes,” I moaned, coming down from the high.

I felt his hands shuck off my underwear. “You won’t be needing this.” He took off my top. He kissed my breast. “Or this.” My skirt was gone, too. “Or this.” He kissed my thigh.

“Hm, looks like I missed a spot.”

He parted my thighs easily, quickly, skillfully. I was there, completely spread open, and grateful to any deity that existed that I’d had the foresight to shave.

“Bare pussy. I like that.” With nothing more, he started kissing me between my thighs. His strong tongue hit my clit again and again. Orgasm two took less than twenty seconds. Orgasm three didn’t take much longer. I was a limp puddle, and he played me like virtuoso plays a violin.

“Fuck me!”

He pulled my thighs apart. He thrust in. I was so wet that he slid in with no trouble. He pulled out. I knew that my cum was getting on my thighs and the sheets. I didn’t care. I didn’t care if it got on every piece of furniture in the house. It felt so good to be filled up by his thick cock.

He kept thrusting, breathing deeply like a marathon runner. Or a practitioner of Tantric sex. Orgasm four was building, and it was more intense than any orgasm I’d ever had before. My head felt tight, and my breath was coming in pants. I arched my back as he plunged into me again. I screamed and felt myself flutter around him. He roared as he came with me, shooting his hot cum into me.

He pulled out and laid next to me, breathing deeply.

“This is the best night I’ve ever had. How about we get dressed and go to Escolar for some brunch? Some mimosas would be great hair of the dog.”

I frowned. “Escolar cards.” And I knew the owner, who was friends with my mom. She’d definitely tell on me.

“Why would that be a problem?”

“I’m not twenty-one.”

He dropped the towel like it was hot coal. “What the fuck?” He looked at me like I was an alien and backed away.

“You never asked!”

“Fuck! How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I don’t see what the problem is. I’m an adult.” He had his hand over his eyes.

“Fuck,” he said again. “You’re a teenager. You’re a fetus.”

“I’m three months away from being twenty.”