Rm w/a Vu(99)

He doesn’t, though. Instead, he pulls away and bends down. Confused and breathless, I watch as he pulls his ankles from his pants, removes his socks, and then picks up the denim and heads toward the shower to turn it on. On his way back over to me, he drops his pants back to the floor, but my eyes remain locked on the square foil packet he’s holding between his fore and middle fingers as he takes his place between my legs again.

Unable to take even the smallest space between us, I grab his face and pull him down to me, kissing him hard while digging my heels into his backside and forcing him to rock against me again and again.

Warm steam slowly fills the room as his lips pepper a trail over my jaw, down my neck, and then he stops at my breasts. I arch my back up off the bed when he wraps his mouth around one of my nipples, and when his tongue circles it, I thread my fingers into his hair to hold him against me and moan loudly.

Our lips unite in a kiss so firm it almost comes across as needy, and his hard dick slips easily between legs. I begin to move my hips, forcing him back and forth between my thighs, but never letting him enter me—even though that’s what I want more than anything right now. I can tell he’s being careful to keep this from happening, and the minute I hear that foil packet tear between us, I silently rejoice.

“God I love how wet you are,” he announces, and I moan again, unabashedly grinding myself against him.

“And I love…” I momentarily consider not finishing the sentence because I don’t speak this way—ever—but some kind of switch flips in my brain, and I just go with it “…how your hard cock feels against my pussy.”

I never would have imagined that I’d ever partake in dirty talk, mostly because I was afraid that whoever was on the receiving end of it would laugh at me, essentially killing the moment.

Not Greyston, though. There hasn’t been one time that I can recall where he’s ever intentionally made me feel like what I’ve said or done has been ridiculous, and he’s never laughed at me—not even when I thought he was gay.

Before things can get too far, we stop kissing, and my body trembles as my orgasm threatens to retreat. He looks almost tortured, like he’s struggling with something before he pulls out and slips the condom on. I’m not ashamed to admit that I fully enjoy watching him roll it over his length. Once it’s in place, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to him until I can feel him again.

Our eyes lock. All I can see is how much he cares for me, and with a whimper, I pull his face back to mine and kiss him. With our bodies pressed together, Greyston slowly pushes his hips forward. The sensation unparalleled to anything I’ve ever experienced. Greyston moans into my mouth the minute his hips rest flat against my thighs, his entire length sheathed within me. It’s amazing; my whole body feels like it’s on fire—like millions of electric shocks, crackling and sparking beneath the surface of my skin.

I tighten my legs around Greyston’s waist, holding him close as I shift my hips against him, and he slowly pulls out and then sinks back in, repeating this satisfying, yet completely torturous motion over and over and over again.

“Oh!” I cry out, my voice echoing off the walls of the bathroom. “That’s good…so good! Don’t stop.”

But he does. Still inside of me, he grabs my ass and lifts me off the counter, carrying me toward the shower and opening the glass door before stepping inside and pressing my back to the cool tile wall. I’m not too lost to the sensation of Greyston inside me to know this isn’t in some way awkward, so I move to drop my feet.

Greyston is quick to correct this action, sliding his hands down my water-slickened thighs and holding them in place. To affirm his position, he plunges into me again, making me cry out as my orgasm swells just out of reach.

I’m close to my release, and Greyston knows it. His eyes lock on mine, and he resumes his careful pace. The tempo of his hips increases, gaining not only speed, but also depth, and hitting me at angles I’ve never even dreamed of before.

And, for some reason, it’s still not enough.

My hips meet his, making our combined thrusts a little deeper, a little more intense, and a lot more satisfying. Sure, it’s awkward since I have very little leverage other than the wall, but eventually, we find our rhythm and move together.

I whimper at the loss of his lips on mine, but the sound turns to a sigh as he kisses down my jaw and over my neck.

“Oh god, Juliette,” Greyston growls, pressing his forehead to my neck, dampened by sweat. “You feel so fucking good.” His voice is raspy, and his words are punctuated with every push.