But I don’t have to worry about that.
Settling between her thighs, I almost wonder if I’m dreaming again. If this is possibly real life. She plants her feet flat on the bed, her silky thighs sliding over my hips, and when I line myself up with her opening and press just the tip inside, she sighs like she’s on the verge of paradise. And when her hands grip my ass and she pushes me in deeper, her short fingernails dig into my skin, the tiny prick of pain enough to let me know that no, this isn’t a dream. This is real life. And I’m the luckiest asshole in the world.
Once I’m all the way inside her, she releases my ass, letting me rest for a moment, her hands sliding up to cup my shoulders. “That’s better,” she whispers.
“Is it?” I can’t help my grin.
She nods, her face solemn. “For now. You’ll need to start moving soon, though.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’ll happen if I don’t?”
She gives me back that flat stare she’s perfected, the one that says I’m a moron more eloquently than words. “You don’t want to move?”
I’d laugh, except I give a short thrust and am robbed of all higher executive function. Words? Humor? Coherent thoughts? They’re all lost to me. The only thing that matters is the grip of her tight pussy, the slide of her thighs on my hips, the sharp bite of her fingernails in my skin. And making her give those little gasps and sighs of delight.
It’s been so long and I’m so keyed up that I have no idea how long I’ll be able to last. I just hope it’s long enough to get her there with me, because I’ve been dreaming about seeing her face as she comes apart, and I’m determined to make that happen tonight one way or another.
Her hips rise up to meet me on each thrust, her soft sounds more beautiful to me than anything we played for our audience tonight. Because these sounds are all for me. Only for me.
Dipping my head, I claim her lips once again, thrusting my tongue into her mouth. She sucks on it, not letting me retreat, and my hips move faster in response. I’m getting close. So close. But I’m not sure she’s there with me.
“I’m almost there,” I whisper against her lips. “Tell me you’re close. God, I need to see you come.”
She reaches between us, her fingers sliding around where my shaft pistons in and out of her opening, gathering her wetness then frantically rubbing her clit. “Almost,” she whispers. “Almost.”
But I can’t hold out any longer, no matter what tricks I try to delay my reaction. Her fingers grazing my shaft as she works her clit send me pitching over the edge. As the electricity zips through my spine, making me convulse as I empty myself inside her, I force myself to keep going, not stopping until I feel her answering cry of bliss, her fingers slowing as her pussy squeezes my cock, keeping my orgasm going even longer.
Sweet baby Jesus, this woman is going to drain me dry if this is how it’s going to be between us.
And I won’t have a single complaint.
Given how hesitant she was for our relationship to cross physical boundaries, things are surprisingly easy between us. After dealing with the condom and cleaning myself up, I return to the bedroom to find her sitting up in bed, mussing her hair with her hands.
She smiles up at me. “I don’t like sleeping with crunchy hair, so I’m getting all the gel crunch out.”
“That’s why I use a cream. No crunch.” I run my hand through my hair to demonstrate.
She sticks her tongue out at me before grinning again. “Well, goody for you, Colt. But I wasn’t going for the soft and touchable look on stage.”
Laughing, I cross my arms and lean against the doorframe as I watch her finish getting rid of the remaining crunchy bits in her hair, enjoying this relaxed interaction, so different from the awkwardness I was more than a little worried might settle in. It easily could’ve. She could’ve decided this was all a big mistake once I climbed off of her. Sure, in the heat of the moment she referenced a next time, but that doesn’t mean she might not regret what happened between us immediately after.
Fortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
After one last ruffling of her hair with both hands, she climbs off the bed and steps closer to me. Sliding her arms around my torso, she presses up and kisses my jaw. Surprised, but happy, I lower my face and kiss her on the lips, the easy intimacy another layer of reassurance that she has no regrets about us and what we just did.
“I’m starving,” she declares when she pulls away. “Let’s make pancakes.”
My eyebrows practically jump off my face they go so far up my forehead. “Pancakes?”
She casts a glance over her shoulder as she saunters to the kitchen, the sway of her pert little ass enticing me to follow her, her sly grin letting me know it’s one hundred percent on purpose. “You’re always trying to get me to eat more. You complaining?”
“No! No. Just surprised is all.”
With a shrug, she bends and pulls out a mixing bowl and a skillet, giving me a delightful show.
“So.” I prop myself in the entry to the kitchen, watching her pull out the high protein pancake mix I like and measuring cups.
“Hmm?” She doesn’t spare me more than the briefest glance.
“We’ve gone all the way to naked now?”
Laughing, more relaxed and joyful than I’ve ever seen her, she measures out the pancake mix and dumps it into the bowl. Then she sets it down and drags her eyes up and down my body.
