“Yes,” I moan, lifting and grinding my hips.
“You taste so good, baby.” His hands go under my ass, lifting me closer to his mouth. I start breathing heavy, feeling like I’m getting ready to fall off a cliff. “Come for me,” he whispers as he licks me, circling my clit. I’m so close; I just need something else.
“More,” I whimper, not able to form a complete sentence.
“What do you want?” he asks against me, his voice rough. I can feel the stubble of his jaw scraping against my skin.
“You. I need you!” I cry. He drops my ass, spreads my legs further apart, then two fingers enter me, pulling up against my g-spot so quickly that I shoot off the bed with the force of the orgasm that explodes through me. I fly apart while seeing stars; my body’s on fire, every nerve feeling exposed. When I finally come back to myself, Trevor’s above me, his clothes gone.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, taking my mouth in a deep kiss. He pulls me forward, removing my bra. I can feel his body press against mine, his hard muscles covered by smooth skin, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his size surrounding me, making me feel fragile and safe. He pulls his mouth away from mine and he looks at me. I can see the same desire coursing through me in his eyes. “My turn,” he says against my lips. Before I can ask what he means, he’s slamming into me. My legs circle his hips; my nails dig into his biceps. My head flies back, my body arching. “Jesus,” he grunts, stilling his movements, his forehead laying against my chest. “So perfect.” He slides out, then back in slower.
“Finally,” I breathe. I have wanted this for so long, and finally having it is like every holiday rolled into one. He starts to speed up, his hand traveling down my side, all the way to my knee and he pulls it up; I can feel him deeper. He’s so thick and long that every time he fills me, I bite my lip against the slight sting. I can feel myself tighten around him; I’m getting close.
“I fucking knew I’d love your pussy, baby,” he says, sitting up on his calves, pulling me up with him so we’re face-to-face. “Wrap your legs around me.” I do what he says. His hands slide up my thighs, to my ass, waist, and ribs; one stays there while the other tangles into my hair. “Move with me.” He pulls down on my chin with his mouth so I’ll let go of my lip. We start rocking together very slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you mine, Liz?” he whispers his question, and I nod my head. “I need to hear you tell me that your mine.” I swallow; for some reason this feels like something else, more serious than the ‘will you be my girlfriend’ question. “Say it, Liz. Tell me that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I whisper, feeling like I just gave a giant piece of me away to him, knowing that it’s something I can’t take back.
“That’s right, baby. You’re mine; don’t ever forget it,” he says harshly, before he starts lifting his hips harder and faster. I bite down on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out. When I feel myself tighten around him, he pulls my face out of his neck, and slams his mouth against mine. His other hand goes to my breast, pinching my nipple, sending me over. I hear him rumble my name, following behind me with his own orgasm. We’re both breathing heavy, my face tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped around me. I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out. “Why are you laughing?” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Just thinking that you proved a whole lot of people wrong.”
“What?” He asks, bending back so that I’m now sprawled on top of him. He pulls my hair away from my face, tracing my eyebrows. I look in his eyes; they are so warm that I can hardly breathe. “What?” he asks, more quietly this time.
I shake my head, clearing my mind. “You know the old saying? Guys who drive big trucks have—” He rolls us over so I’m under him, and he grits his teeth, sliding out of me.
“Don’t finish that thought.” He shakes his head, chuckling.
“What? You don’t have that problem.” I laugh when he starts tickling me. “Okay! Okay! I won’t talk about it!” I yell.
He stops his torture, his elbow going into the bed next to my head. “You ready to get out of town?”
“Yes. Plus, I’m excited. My mom is the happiest I have ever seen her.”
“George is a good guy,” he nods.
“Yeah, he is,” I agree. My mom met George two years ago online. George had been divorced for four years; he waited until his youngest was in college before he started looking for a relationship. He had gone on a few blind dates and nothing ever worked out. One day, he was home watching TV and a commercial about an online dating site came on. He said “what the hell”, and signed up. That was around the time I signed my mom up behind her back. I wanted her to be happy. I hated seeing her so lonely; she deserved to find someone. Shortly after I signed her up, George sent her a message. That’s when I told her about the site and what I did. At first, she didn’t want to write him back, but I convinced her that if she didn’t like what he said through e-mail, that she never had to speak with him again. So she took a chance, and after a few e-mails and phone calls, they met up. He lives about an hour from us in Alabama, and since their first meeting, they have been inseparable.