The tremors spread like wildfire to my vaginal muscles, and up to my stomach, my lungs, my arms and legs, until I was thrashing as if possessed. He was pistoning into me, mouth wide in a building roar. The tremors became an earthquake, and then a tectonic shifting, my entire body convulsing, and still I wasn't in full orgasm and neither was he.
I was crying out now, louder than my voice had ever gone and I was completely in his thrall, taken by him, my body brought to an apex of sensation. He bellowed, then, and his c**k pulsed and thrust in a hard, staccato rhythm and I felt him come, felt his muscles tense and he leaned into my legs. I saw stars then, as my own orgasm began, pinpricks of white across my vision, little dots of non-color spreading out to each other until all the world was white and my body was locked in a spasm, ecstasy so intense and unending and unrelenting I couldn't even cry, couldn't sob or breathe or even blink. His c**k continued to dive into me, pushing the explosions in my body hotter, higher, more potent. I thought I was being ripped into two by pure, unadulterated pleasure, and still he thrust, still he came.
A single thought passed through my mind: I wanted him bare inside me, so I could feel his seed wash through me. Nothing else mattered but achieving that sensation, consequences be damned.
Thought was banished, then, as the detonations rolled through me, convulsing me, and somehow my legs were on the bed and his weight was on me and still he was fluttering his c**k into me, drawing the very last dregs of sensation out of me.
My breath came back in a heady, dizzy rush, and I realized part of the reason I'd seen stars was I'd been literally, physically unable to breathe, so intense was my orgasm.
I heard a choking sound, and felt my chest heaving, and I realized the sound was me, sobbing uncontrollably, bawling and shuddering.
Shane realized it as soon as I did, and immediately rolled off me, cupping my cheek in his hand. "I hurt you, didn't I?" He seemed frightened of the thought, abjectly sorrowful. "I did. You're crying."
I shook my head and forced breath into my lungs, shoved the tears away.
"No, no. Shane..." I rolled over to flop onto his chest and his arm wrapped me into him. "I'm crying because I've never...because you just f**ked me breathless, you just rocked my world until I couldn't see straight."
"Is that a good thing?" He was searching my eyes, still looking worried.
"Oh god yes. Hell yes." I couldn't figure out how to make him understand what I'd just experienced. "You've ruined me, you know."
"What?" He looked panicked. "I used a condom! It's still on, I swear!"
I laughed, realizing how that had sounded. "No, I just meant you've ruined me for all other men. It's impossible for anyone to ever do that to me again."
Shane sighed in relief. "Shit, you scared me."
"Sorry. I just can't express what you did to me. I didn't know sex could be like that."
He grinned and squeezed me in a one-armed hug. "Oh, Leo. You've been deprived, then." He rested his hand on my hip, then cupped my ass.
I wiggled my butt into his hand. I loved how he touched me. And then I worried about how often since I'd met I'd thought the word "love" in reference to him.
"So, was it okay, for you?" I asked.
Shane looked at me, incredulous. "Okay? Okay?"
He rolled on top of me, and I felt a semi-solid pressure on my belly. I made a noise low in my throat, amazed that he could be ready again so soon.
"It was, and I mean this literally, the best sex of my life." Shane lowered his lips to mine, and kissed me with shocking tenderness.
"You're bullshitting me," I said.
He huffed a laugh. "I would never bullshit a bullshitter."
I reached between us and fondled his growing member, and then realized he was still wearing a condom, limp and sodden. I pulled it free and set it on his bedside table. He cocked an eyebrow at me, then reached for another one.
I stopped him. "I'm about to start my period," I lied. "We don't need one."
He hesitated. "I'd rather not take any risks."
I knew it was a risk too, but I didn't care, not in that moment. Besides, if I was already in that kind of trouble, then it didn't matter anyway. I touched him again, sliding my hands on his slick, come-drenched member. He moaned, pressed his forehead to mine. He was moving his hips subtly, now sporting a raging hard-on.
I pulled him into me, and he still hesitated, trying to pull out. What a man.
"I want it bare," I said. "I want to feel you shoot your load into me. It's fine, I promise."
"We shouldn't, even still," he protested.
But it was too late. I was grinding into him, stretched and ready for his cock.