Mike slid his feet backwards a little bit, then went after me with more intensity than ever, the new angle of entry allowing him deeper penetration. Holding my legs back with his arms, he pounded away at my pussy, his lower half slamming against me at the end of every thrust.
His hands made their way up under my knees. Pushing back on them, he rolled me up even more, lifting my ass further off the couch. With his hands, he pushed down on my legs, forcing them deep into the cushions, folding me practically in half. He spread his legs wider and slid his feet forward, giving himself even more leverage, allowing him to pummel me even harder than before.
I was close to my third orgasm of the night, but I knew I didn’t have long to finish. My hand flew down to my pussy and started rubbing my clit, trying to help things along.
At this point in the proceedings Mike was too far along to even care. It was no longer about control, it was only about pure pleasure. A single-minded, mad rush to the finish line; a race that was nearly over. The first leg of it, at least.
His pounding ramped up yet another notch and I knew he was just seconds away now. I went after my clit with more intensity, desperately trying to cum before he did. Because I knew that if he finished before I was then I was screwed. And not in the good way.
As it turned out, I started to cum at precisely the same moment he shot his load into me. The often talked about but rarely achieved simultaneous orgasm was a thing of pure beauty, our bodies peaking in unison as we stared into each other’s eyes. both of us feeding off the other’s pleasure to prolong the sensation for an extra couple of moments.
After Mike had finished he stayed inside me, our bodies joined together, not moving, just relishing the feel of each other while we came down off our orgasms. After we’d both caught our breath, he leaned forward and gave me a kiss, then pulled his cock out of my pussy.
He fell onto the couch beside me, his cock practically glowing in the light from the cum that coated it. It was still hard but fading, although not too rapidly. From the looks of things, he wouldn’t need very long to recover before being ready to go again. Half an hour, tops. If even that.
“So what do you think?” I asked, rolling over to look at him. “A shower and another bottle of wine, and then we can get started on round two?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Mike said. “And this time, we’ll spend more time on fucking than on foreplay.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I said.
Mike stood up, then held out his hand, helping me off the couch. Holding hands, we headed towards the bathroom to get cleaned up before doing it all again.
Good old Mike, always the reliable lover. And a gentlemen to boot. I could do worse. A lot worse. I had, in fact. Many times. And undoubtedly would again in the future.
For now, at least, I was satisfied. And really, what more could a girl ask for?
#####
DIRTY ANAL
Josh Evans is one lucky motherfucker. I mean, it’s bad enough that he’s worth hundreds of millions of dollars and extremely good-looking and gets to go to the best parties all over the world, which are populated with gorgeous women that are just praying that he takes them up to his room for a night of insane fucking. But once you add in the fact that he scores with ease on nights when he’s just minding his own business, that’s when things start to feel just downright unfair.
This evening is a perfect example. Josh is staying overnight at a hotel in downtown Chicago, recovering from a particularly draining couple days of partying with some former ballplayer friends of his before heading off to Lake Tahoe for a celebrity golf tournament the next day. It’s almost five o’clock when he realizes that he hasn’t eaten all afternoon. So he grabs his wallet and walks out the front door, heading down to a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant he saw on the way in.
He waits in line and orders his food. A minute later he gets it, finds a table over by the window, sits down and eats. No more than thirty seconds after that he’s approached by a tiny, super-hot, dirty blonde girl in her early twenties dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Despite her loose clothes, Josh can tell she’s sporting a rocking body. And her face is cute as shit; big eyes, small nose, perfect lips, tan skin.
The girl introduces herself as Taylor and asks if they’ve met before. Josh assures her that they haven’t; he’d have recognized her if they had. She tells him she’s a dancer, maybe she’s seen him in her club before? He tells her he’s never been there. She asks him about a couple more places but he’s never been to any of them. Taylor doesn’t seem convinced but eventually she believes him that they haven’t met.
But Josh tells her that she may recognize him. Does she watch baseball? She says she doesn’t. He asks her a couple more questions but doesn’t get the answers he’s looking for. Eventually she apologizes and turns to walk away.
Josh stops her, asks her if she wants to join him. Taylor looks him over quickly, then agrees to.
Ten minutes later they’re done eating. Josh throws away their plates and they get up to leave. Shortly after walking out onto the sidewalk, Taylor asks Josh
