“That was maybe the best orgasm ever.”
“What made it so best?” I ask, knowing there have been lots of “bests.”
“You were really into it, really enjoying it. It was body shaking, shuddering, with your fingers inside me and my cock so far down your throat. And you just seemed to really be enjoying the feeling of my orgasm around your fingers inside me and it just lasted forever.”
The boy has good orgasms, I’ll give him that. When I’ve got fingers deep inside him and can feel the power of his contractions, I understand what it means when he says it feels like he couldn’t pull his fingers from me even if he wanted to when my cunt clutches him in deep and furious spasms.
It just seems so wrong to wake up early on the morning of a day off. But the sun streams into our room, and often by 5:30 it’s light, and by 7 it’s bright as midday. If the sleep mask slips off then I’m usually done for the night. I roll over to him and snuggle into his chest, running my hands over his belly, staying within bounds and never straying below the elastic of his boxers. But then I wrap a leg around his upper thigh to pull ever closer to him, and he begins to stir. My hand keeps roaming over his warm skin, softly pressing into him, raking my nails through the trail of hair below his belly button.
More or less awake, he palms my breast through my thin cotton top, feeling for the hardness he knows is already there. I push my chest into him and slip fingertips into his waistband. But I don’t let us languish, and instead dive under the covers and work his shorts down his hips. He’s hard, ready. That doesn’t stop me from licking his cock from base to tip, or from holding him in my mouth while I work my tongue over the sensitive zone on the underside, just below his head. He moans and sighs and touches my hair.
But it’s not my head that want to be between his legs, devouring his cock. I pull my slippery lips off him and replace the feeling of one warm, wet hole with another as I slide my slick, tight cunt down his cock. And I ride him like I haven’t in months. My hips twist, my clit grinds, and my juices flood over the base of his cock. I bite his lips, his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone. I fuck him with an abandon and wildness I haven’t felt in ages.
He slides fingers between us and my motions grind my clit against his fingers until I come around him. He moves his wet fingers to the skin just outside my slick hole, pressing against me as I stroke up and down his cock. The sensation of his fingers there makes me shiver. He moves to the skin surrounding my asshole, never quite touching that slightly forbidden zone (it’s really not, it just feels that way sometimes) and raising goosebumps across my flesh.
I keep on fucking him, now laying on his chest, working my hips and rubbing my breasts against him. The sensation of my swollen nipples dragging across his skin, his chest hair, excites me as much as it excites him. I push up and slide my cunt just to the tip of his cock and push back down onto him, hard. Again. He loves the tease, never knowing how long I’ll wait until I surround him fully again.
He rolls us over and starts to rub his fingers through my cunt. I feel how wet and engorged my flesh is, and I just want more. More him. He fills me briefly and then rubs my clit hard and fast until I come again. He fills me again, working his fingers over my g-spot until I’m squirming and writhing and lost in the sensation of my pussy clenching and clit throbbing. But he doesn’t let me go, doesn’t stop for a second, and again assaults my clit. I am at his mercy, but there’s no mercy to be had, and instead I give in and feel the juices gush from my cunt, the warmth running over my asscheeks as I come a final time, nearly spent.
He’s ready, so close, and slips his cock inside for only a moment and then straddles me and brings it to my lips. I swallow him down as much as I can from the angle, as he pours lube onto my fingers. As I slip my fingers into his tight but pliant asshole, he slips his cock from my mouth and begins to stroke himself with purpose. I shift and pull up, knowing what’s coming. Knowing he’s coming. I read the signals of his body and at the precise moment slide my mouth over his cock, his head into my throat and press my fingertips deeper into his body.
We haven’t fucked like that in months, but on July fourth we finally had amazing, spectacular, burn-the-house-down sex. Fireworks, indeed.