He slammed into her and she screamed. She was worried for a second it would scare him, but he didn't even pause. She dragged her nails down his back and babbled incoherently while he fucked her. She made somewhat of an attempt to continue begging, but she was pretty sure most of it was nonsense.
How could she possibly think when he was everywhere? His hands were all over her, constantly moving and pushing and squeezing. Exploring, just like he'd said, yet it didn't slow him down at all. He kept pushing and thrusting and pounding away at her. God, so much. She felt like she was going to explode and she started coiling herself around him, lifting her legs and squeezing her thighs against him.
“You were right,” he panted, running a hand down her thigh and then cupping her asscheek. “You are very, very good at this.”
“I have a good partner,” she replied. Her nerves were being wound so tight, her teeth actually started to chatter. He dug his fingers into her flesh and dragged his hand back up her thigh.
“Tatum,” he said. It was the first time he'd said her name since he'd been inside her, and it almost undid her right then. She bit down on her lips and tried to concentrate on his voice. “This has been very amazing, but I need to know one more thing.”
“Anything, anything, anything,” she chanted in time to his thrusts.
“I'm going to come,” he breathed. “Please ...” He didn't finish the sentence.
“Please, yes, I want you to. Anywhere you want,” she urged, turning to look at him. She was surprised to see him staring right back at her. His forehead dropped down to hers again.
“I want you to come, too,” he said.
“Don't worry,” she whined, her voice high pitched and thready. “I'm going to.”
“Please, for me. Just this one time. I want to know I could make someone do that, at least once.”
“Oh god,” she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut tight, trying to stave off the orgasm until he was finished. She felt his fingers against her face, tracing over her lips.
“Don't, don't, don't,” he whispered. “Don't hold back from me. Don't ever do that.”
Funny how she could stand harsh words and stinging hands so well, yet a dear friend speaking so softly and sweetly could just shred her.
She screamed when she came, her entire back arching off the bed. His index finger pressed down hard against her bottom lip, setting off the nerve endings there, then dipped into her mouth. Stroked over her tongue. She moaned and cried, gently biting down on him. She heard him give a loud groan and he started thrusting even harder. The headboard banged against the wall in time, making a loud, sharp, smacking sound that seemed to reverberate through the room.
“Oh my god,” she sobbed when he finally pulled his hand away. “Holy fuck. I can't stop … god, please, Sanders …”
If she'd been in her right mind, she would've been worried about leaving scars on his back, but her right mind was a million miles away. No, her current state of mind was set to “well fucked” and she paid no attention to the deep scratches her fingernails were leaving behind on him.
He didn't seem to mind, though. One of his hands was clenched around her breast and the other moved to grip the top of the wiggling headboard. He used the leverage to pound harder still and she really did go cross eyed.
She was of no use to him, locked in her orgasm. She could only moan and shriek and say his name. Over and over again. Finally, he let out his own shout. He let go of her breast and when she opened her eyes, she saw that both his hands had the headboard in what looked to be a white-knuckle-grip. His erection throbbed and grew inside her, and then she could feel him coming. Felt him pulsing and twitching.
Her orgasm had just started subsiding when he collapsed on top of her. His face was next to hers, buried in the pillows, and their chests fought against each other as they both tried to catch their breath.
“Well then,” she panted, sliding one hand gently up his sweat slicked back. “Now you are officially not a virgin anymore.”
“Yes,” he grunted, and she felt him nod. “I think it is safe to say that I am most certainly not anymore.”
They were quiet for a while. Her hips were aching and her thighs were trembling, but she didn't say anything. Just kept one hand in his hair and kept rubbing the other up and down his back.
When they could both breathe normally again and the warmth in the air started to dissipate, he finally slid off her. He pulled the sheets over them, then laid on his stomach next to her. She stayed on her back, smiling up at the ceiling.
“I did alright?” he finally asked. She barked out a laugh.
“Uh, yeah, Sanders. You did 'alright',” she snorted. “I'm pretty sure every single person in this motel knows just how 'alright' you did.”
“Do you know, I always wondered how you could stand to be so loud. Why it didn't embarrass you,” he said. “But now I think I understand. I didn't even care when it was happening. Didn't even think about it.”
“We'll see how you feel about it tomorrow at breakfast when you have to face all the other guests,” she joked.
“I don't think I'll care then, either.”
“No, you probably won't. When sex is that good, you never do.”
“Was I as good as some of the other people you've slept with?” he asked boldly.
“Yes. Good god, yes, you were.”
“Even for it being my first time?”
“Shockingly enough, yes. Did you study for this or something?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, how do you study for sex?”
“I can be somewhat obsessive when I want to know about something, and I have had a lot of alone time to thoroughly think things through and read up on the subject. The only thing missing was someone to engage with.”
“You should teach a course,” she suggested.
“So I was better than some of your other partners?” he asked. She loved that he asked so outright. No shyness, no hinting, like other men would do.
“Than most of them,” she told him, then she reached out and pressed her hand against his back. “I'd put you in the top ten.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“That is quite an honor, considering how many people you've slept with.”
How could she possibly think when he was everywhere? His hands were all over her, constantly moving and pushing and squeezing. Exploring, just like he'd said, yet it didn't slow him down at all. He kept pushing and thrusting and pounding away at her. God, so much. She felt like she was going to explode and she started coiling herself around him, lifting her legs and squeezing her thighs against him.
“You were right,” he panted, running a hand down her thigh and then cupping her asscheek. “You are very, very good at this.”
“I have a good partner,” she replied. Her nerves were being wound so tight, her teeth actually started to chatter. He dug his fingers into her flesh and dragged his hand back up her thigh.
“Tatum,” he said. It was the first time he'd said her name since he'd been inside her, and it almost undid her right then. She bit down on her lips and tried to concentrate on his voice. “This has been very amazing, but I need to know one more thing.”
“Anything, anything, anything,” she chanted in time to his thrusts.
“I'm going to come,” he breathed. “Please ...” He didn't finish the sentence.
“Please, yes, I want you to. Anywhere you want,” she urged, turning to look at him. She was surprised to see him staring right back at her. His forehead dropped down to hers again.
“I want you to come, too,” he said.
“Don't worry,” she whined, her voice high pitched and thready. “I'm going to.”
“Please, for me. Just this one time. I want to know I could make someone do that, at least once.”
“Oh god,” she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut tight, trying to stave off the orgasm until he was finished. She felt his fingers against her face, tracing over her lips.
“Don't, don't, don't,” he whispered. “Don't hold back from me. Don't ever do that.”
Funny how she could stand harsh words and stinging hands so well, yet a dear friend speaking so softly and sweetly could just shred her.
She screamed when she came, her entire back arching off the bed. His index finger pressed down hard against her bottom lip, setting off the nerve endings there, then dipped into her mouth. Stroked over her tongue. She moaned and cried, gently biting down on him. She heard him give a loud groan and he started thrusting even harder. The headboard banged against the wall in time, making a loud, sharp, smacking sound that seemed to reverberate through the room.
“Oh my god,” she sobbed when he finally pulled his hand away. “Holy fuck. I can't stop … god, please, Sanders …”
If she'd been in her right mind, she would've been worried about leaving scars on his back, but her right mind was a million miles away. No, her current state of mind was set to “well fucked” and she paid no attention to the deep scratches her fingernails were leaving behind on him.
He didn't seem to mind, though. One of his hands was clenched around her breast and the other moved to grip the top of the wiggling headboard. He used the leverage to pound harder still and she really did go cross eyed.
She was of no use to him, locked in her orgasm. She could only moan and shriek and say his name. Over and over again. Finally, he let out his own shout. He let go of her breast and when she opened her eyes, she saw that both his hands had the headboard in what looked to be a white-knuckle-grip. His erection throbbed and grew inside her, and then she could feel him coming. Felt him pulsing and twitching.
Her orgasm had just started subsiding when he collapsed on top of her. His face was next to hers, buried in the pillows, and their chests fought against each other as they both tried to catch their breath.
“Well then,” she panted, sliding one hand gently up his sweat slicked back. “Now you are officially not a virgin anymore.”
“Yes,” he grunted, and she felt him nod. “I think it is safe to say that I am most certainly not anymore.”
They were quiet for a while. Her hips were aching and her thighs were trembling, but she didn't say anything. Just kept one hand in his hair and kept rubbing the other up and down his back.
When they could both breathe normally again and the warmth in the air started to dissipate, he finally slid off her. He pulled the sheets over them, then laid on his stomach next to her. She stayed on her back, smiling up at the ceiling.
“I did alright?” he finally asked. She barked out a laugh.
“Uh, yeah, Sanders. You did 'alright',” she snorted. “I'm pretty sure every single person in this motel knows just how 'alright' you did.”
“Do you know, I always wondered how you could stand to be so loud. Why it didn't embarrass you,” he said. “But now I think I understand. I didn't even care when it was happening. Didn't even think about it.”
“We'll see how you feel about it tomorrow at breakfast when you have to face all the other guests,” she joked.
“I don't think I'll care then, either.”
“No, you probably won't. When sex is that good, you never do.”
“Was I as good as some of the other people you've slept with?” he asked boldly.
“Yes. Good god, yes, you were.”
“Even for it being my first time?”
“Shockingly enough, yes. Did you study for this or something?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, how do you study for sex?”
“I can be somewhat obsessive when I want to know about something, and I have had a lot of alone time to thoroughly think things through and read up on the subject. The only thing missing was someone to engage with.”
“You should teach a course,” she suggested.
“So I was better than some of your other partners?” he asked. She loved that he asked so outright. No shyness, no hinting, like other men would do.
“Than most of them,” she told him, then she reached out and pressed her hand against his back. “I'd put you in the top ten.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“That is quite an honor, considering how many people you've slept with.”
