Sure Thing(7)

More of this, more of that, more of whatever he’s got to offer.

His mouth is on mine again and I moan when he drops his arms enough for my nipples to rub against his chest. When his tongue presses into my mouth and tangles with my own. When he nips at my lip and kisses his way down my throat. By the time he moves lower and cups the underside of my breast with one hand while flicking his thumb over the nipple, I’m ready to beg. Instead I swear at him.

“Fuck… Jennings.” I moan and arch my back when he flattens his tongue across the surface of my breast and flicks his thumb back and forth over my nipple again. That fucking mouth of his.

I need him inside of me. I can’t remember the last time I was this anxious to move from foreplay to penetration. When it didn’t feel like a cursory few kisses were delivered before the guy was whipping out his dick and grunting like he was fucking with way more skill than he had.

Like sometimes my ex Mark liked to bark, “Take it, take it,” while he thrust aggressively and I’d mumble something like, “Hmmm, yeah,” while I’d snake my hand down to rub my clit and think, Take what? Take what exactly? Because it mostly just felt like he was bouncing me on the bed and poking at me with a super-plus tampon while he played alpha man. And I am not saying this from a place of bitter ex-girlfriend. His penis was perfectly normal-sized. It’s just that some men have a really overinflated opinion of the skill they have with their average-sized penises. That’s all.

I’m positive that whatever Magic Mouth is packing under those cotton briefs he will use it with skill. He seems pretty skilled. Maybe being almost forty has its benefits? God, I hope he’s still got stamina though. Don’t men lose stamina as they age? Don’t let me down, Jennings, I think as I slide my hands down to his briefs and push them over his hips, my intent clear. Do not let me down. You are my first one-night stand, don’t be my last. Don’t be the reason I give up entirely and take up knitting and invest in a vibrator collection. Don’t be—

Never mind.

I’ve got his briefs past his ass. His cock just thumped onto my stomach. Like, if my stomach was capable of emitting a grunt from the contact, it would. Hell, yes. Keep calm and carry on. God save the Queen. Think of England. I let a giggle loose as he reaches for the condom.

“You’re a very odd sort of girl, aren’t you?” he asks, but he’s smiling again, a lazy lust-fueled smile that reaches his eyes. He has nice eyes.

“I’m usually the sensible one,” I murmur. Throwing caution to the wind has never been my thing, but I think it’s going to be. Why not, right? It’s not like I have an apartment or a job to lose. They’re already gone, might as well embrace it. Seize the day, carpe diem. Easy, breezy me.

“The sensible what?” he asks as he tears the condom wrapper with his teeth. Why is that sexy? I should probably get out more if that move is enough to do it for me.

“Nothing,” I reply. “Never mind,” I add while sliding one of my knees up to plant my foot on the bed next to his thigh. He’s slipped that condom on one-handed with practiced ease and settled both my legs outside of his on the bed. His weight rests on one arm as he uses the other to guide his cock, nudging at my entrance. He pushes just inside and it’s already good. I’ve missed this, and I decide then and there that the new carefree me is going to put out more.

Then he slides in deeper and it’s better than good.

He locks eyes with mine as he sinks all the way in. He groans and I suck in air. I wiggle my pelvis a little, adjusting to the feel of him while trapping my lower lip between my teeth, which he promptly removes with his own then kisses me.

I make a weird noise in my throat and rotate my hips towards him because he just feels so perfect. I clench around his cock and his eyes darken then close for a moment. When he opens them he grins and kisses me again before sliding back, almost out, then back in. He teases me with the most deliciously long, deliberate strokes. Deep then shallow. Receding then forging. When he pulls out to the tip I dig my fingertips into his shoulders, wanting him back. I’d beg him for it if he asked.

Instead he withdraws and moves to his knees, hooking my thighs under his forearms and pulling me to raise my bottom off the bed, then sliding back in. This time when he enters me it’s fast and hard. I reach over my head and rest my hands against the headboard, both to stop myself from hitting it and to aid him in his task. Sex has never felt like this. Never.

“Oh, my God, don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping, love. Not a chance.”

His balls smack against me as he thrusts and it’s so lewd, the only sounds in the room skin slapping skin mingled with our breathing. It’s wet and hot, hard and dirty and I want to come right now, but I want it to last longer too.