Chapter 1: Ellie
His balls smacked against my ass as he thrusted in and out of me, driving his hard cock into my warm, wet pussy. I bent over, fingers curling into the back of the leather couch. His thumb circled my erect nipple before trailing down my stomach and pressing against my swollen clit.
Holy fucking shit that felt good. Warmth spread through me, and my pussy tightened around his dick. I tossed my head back, overcome with pleasure. He circled his fingers and thrust harder into me.
“You like that?” he whispered, breath hot on my neck.
“Yeah,” I panted, hardly able to talk. The muscles in my thighs quivered. I sharply inhaled. “Oh God,” I panted. I was so close to coming. Oh my God. So close…so fucking close.
“Not yet,” he whispered and moved his hands to my neck. “You come when I say you can.” His fingers tightened, choking me. He stopped fucking me, pulling out so only the tip of his dick was inside of me, teasing. I groaned in frustration, and my body went rigid, begging to be allowed to come. He shoved his big cock back into me, pushing it in as far as it could go, filling me.
His fingers squeezed my neck, and he rammed himself into me again, over and over. He let go of my neck, fingers sweeping across my collarbone. His skin was soft and smooth. Slowly, his fingers trailed over my breast and around my hard nipple.
He touched my clit again, gentle at first, tantalizing. Unable to take it any longer, I reached down and moved his hand out of the way. I could do it better myself. I knew what I wanted. He leaned forward, watching me stroke myself. Pleasure shot through me, winding in my stomach. My breathing quickened. I was almost there.
He cupped my breasts in his hands, running his fingers over my nipples. He brought his thumb and finger together, pulling my nipple. I moved my fingers faster, pressing down on my clit. I was so wet.
He slipped his hand down, taking over where I had left off. He moved fast, pressing so hard it almost hurt. My wetness increased. Oh. My. God. The coil in my stomach wound tighter. I braced myself against the couch. He kissed my neck and flicked his fingers back and forth.
Holy shit. My mouth opened, and my eyes rolled back. Pleasure was building up—fast. My muscles tightened, and I fell forward, nails digging into the leather.
“I’m close,” he huffed. “Come first, sweetheart.”
And I did. Hard, so hard juices dripped down my leg and onto the couch. The orgasm rippled through me, my body shuddering in ecstasy. I moaned, riding out the pleasure. The wonderful tingling exploded, running down my thighs. I wouldn’t be walking any time soon.
His hands settled on my slender waist, breath coming out in a ragged huff as he blew his load. Panting, he leaned forward against me, open mouth against my shoulder. He sucked at my skin, and I shuddered. My ears rang and my fingers tingled from the intensity of the orgasm. My head dropped, resting against the back of the couch while I waited for him to finish.
His dick pulsed inside of me. I slowly inhaled and opened my eyes. Holy fuck, that was good. He pressed his lips to my neck.
“You are so beautiful, Ellie,” he whispered. “Just stay here and I will make you something to eat. And bring you wine.”
I settled on the couch and smiled. “Thanks. But really, I just want you again.”
He smiled, his blue eyes flashing. “Anything for you.”
*
My alarm blared. I groaned, reaching my hand out from under the blankets to slap it. Fuck. I was in my room—alone. Sunlight filtered through the third-story window. It was dirty on the outside, muting the bright sun. I had cleaned the window the best I could but was too scared to lean out and wipe away all the dirt.
I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my head, wishing I could force myself to go back to sleep and back to sexy dreamland. My heart was racing, and I was hot.
Shit. Why couldn’t that be real?
At least I dream-finished that time. I hated waking up mid fuck. Though the satisfaction wasn’t real, at least I was getting laid on some level. God knows it hadn’t happened in real life in over half a year.
I sighed and closed my eyes, thinking of my sexy boy-toy in the dream. He was a real person and not a made up fantasy, which made me feel kind of dirty. I didn’t know his name, but I knew he was a doctor, a surgeon I think, at a hospital here in Indianapolis. I had seen him a few months back when I was admitted for severe dehydration due to a fun bout of the stomach flu. He hadn’t been my doctor, but he came in my room to speak to my roommate who had recently had surgery. He had dark wavy hair that a fell around his face, vivid blue eyes, and an accent—a fucking Irish accent. He could make me wet enough for a panty change just by reading the phonebook.