“Fuck, sugar.” His voice seemed to rumble from his belly. “That’s it, suck me. God, suck me down with that sweet little mouth. Come on, come on.”
Dirty talk was hard for Manny. She didn’t want to have to be thinking about what words meant while sex was going on. But she ignored the words and listened to his voice instead. It was deep and growly, and something about the tension in it was sexy to her.
When his balls were almost hard against his body, and he was thrusting emphatically with her rhythm, Manny flicked her stud over the underside of his head until he yelled, and then she finished him off with her hands, going hard at him until he really yelled and went board-stiff, his back and ass off the sofa. Semen left him in an arc and landed on his belly.
After he was done, he just sat there, sprawled and seeming only half-conscious, and Manny got up and grabbed a hand towel from the bathroom. When she came back, he was grinning at her, looking like a dork.
“That was epic.”
She laughed and sat next to him. Feeling more grounded than she yet had with him, she wiped his belly clean, then wadded the towel and dropped it to the floor. While he lolled on her sofa as if boneless, she indulged her need to touch him and ran her hands all over his marvelous chest and belly, around his shoulders, down his arms, then up and back over the same territory, again and again, until he squirmed and began to harden again.
She watched her hands move over his body, but every time she looked up, she saw him watching her face.
When he was fully hard again, he murmured, “Damn, little bit. You’re setting me on fire.”
She didn’t want to talk, so she only smiled and straddled him, her legs still covered in her pink, polka-dotted thigh-high tights. When she kissed him, his body went taut. It felt like he was trying to close around her, fold her into himself. But he kept hold of the sofa and let her touch him. His tongue and lips moved energetically, hungrily with hers, though, and when she pulled away, he lifted his head as far as it would go, prolonging the contact of their mouths.
She kissed him all the places she’d touched him with her hands. All over his face, through his beard, down and around his neck, over his huge shoulders, down his chest. She could feel his cock bumping against her pussy as she scooted down on his legs to bite and suck his nipples, then flick her tongue over each one until they were little, stiff points.
“Manny, fucking Christ. You’re killing me over here. I want to eat you out.”
“Nope. Not this time. This time I just want to fuck.” She grabbed the condom, tore open the packet, and rolled it on him, squeezing as hard as she dared as she moved down his length. Then, with barely any hesitation at all, she sank down on him, her eyes rolling up and her head dropping back as he filled and stretched her again—even more this time, in this position, facing him. It felt like he got even deeper, filled her even more.
It was the best damn feeling ever. Period. Again, she was perfectly still, reveling in the sensation of total fullness, of completeness, she felt with him inside her.
“Your tits are fucking beautiful. God, I want to get my hands on them.”
Scared, she went tight and brought her head forward so quickly her neck cracked. “No!”
“Easy, bit. It’s okay. I wasn’t gonna touch you.” He grinned. “My mouth ran away.” Then his look changed. “You do it.”
“What?”
“Touch yourself. Do you do that? Play with your tits?”
Her tits were supersensitive—hence the moment of panic—but that was a good thing, too. When she touched herself, it was definitely good. The piercings were wicked cool. “Yeah. I like that.”
His cock pulsed inside her. “Fuck. That’s what I’m talking about. Let me watch you do it. Play with your tits while you ride me.”
That sounded like a fantastic idea, so as she rocked on him, she took her tits in her hands. At first, she just held them, massaged them, with her nipples between her fingers, and he groaned and muttered “fuck me” under his breath.
In this position, her range of motion was less, which kept him deeper all the time. Riding him reverse she’d been able to slide up and down almost at will, but they were more folded up together face to face, and rocking seemed to work best.
Which was awesome—it kept him in near constant contact with the spot deep inside, where no man had gone before, and she thought she could live like this, feeling just like this for every moment of the rest of her life. She quickly found the beat that kept her at the top of pleasure but didn’t push her over to frenzied coming, and she stayed there, eyes closed, rocking, tweaking her nipples lightly, in bliss. She had no idea how long she balanced on that perfect precipice.