“May I make a suggestion?”
“If it’s about stopping this, no.”
“On the contrary,” she said, moving her lips very close to his. “I was thinking that we don’t have to do this only the one time.”
“Good, good.”
She sighed into his mouth, making his cock twitch. “You’re not getting it. First time fast. Second time slow.”
He blinked, leaned forward and kissed her hard. “Jessica, you’re a genius.”
“Yes, I know.”
MORE FACTS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT MEN
1. When four or more men get together, they talk about sports.
2. When four or more women get together, they talk about men.
3. If a man says, “I’ll call you,” and he doesn’t, he didn’t forget…he didn’t lose your number…he didn’t die. He just didn’t want to call you.
4. Getting rid of a man without hurting his masculinity is a problem. “Get out” and “I never want to see you again” might sound like a challenge. If you want to get rid of a man, try saying, “I love you…I want to marry you…I want to have your children.” Sometimes they leave skid marks.
5. Men forget everything; women remember everything. That’s why men need instant replays in sports. They’ve already forgotten what happened.
Source: Hope, Paco “Facts About Men”
http://funnies.paco.to/factsOnMen.html
11
PLEASED WITH HERSELF, and even more pleased with the man on top of her, Jessica smiled slowly, watching him watching her. He clearly liked what he saw, finding wonder in whatever his gaze caught, as if each square inch held new delightful surprises. It made her feel beautiful and desirable and it stirred the pit of her stomach, no, lower.
She ran her hand down the length of his arm from shoulder to wrist, softly caressing, pleased with the suggestion of corded muscle and the silky softness of hair. When she paused, she tried to circle his wrist with her thumb and index finger, but she couldn’t. She stared at him all the while, noticing a tiny twitch of his right eye, the way his nostrils flared, and his white teeth, not perfectly even, but made endearing by slight imperfections. It was as if her vision had gone far beyond the traditional twenty-twenty into a new kind of sight. Not just because they were so close to one another, but because a veil of ordinariness had been lifted. She could read him like a book, his need, his tension, his excitement and his pleasure. More than simply observing, she was empathically connected to him, feeling the very things she witnessed on his face. She wanted him inside her, to make the connection stronger still. Something way beyond the five senses was at work here, and the closer they become the stronger it would become.
She shifted beneath him, him so still and watchful, and she lifted his large wrist, moving his hand to the lower regions of her stomach. His eyes widened, dilated so that there was only a thin circle of hazel left.
He leaned forward, near enough that their breath mingled, but she didn’t close her eyes. Enraptured by his face, his scent, she met his gaze only inches away from her own. She expected a kiss, but instead, he licked her lower lip with his tongue, like a mother cat to her kitten. His hand inched downward, underneath her panties, until she felt him in her thatch of curls, and then, his fingers touched the upper folds.
He moaned very deep in his throat, using his talented tongue to taste her upper lip as he dipped inside her.
She closed her eyes, not because she wanted to but because the sensations were too strong. Her poor little brain couldn’t process so many stimuli at once, so feeling won out over sight.
Her legs parted farther and he explored the soft, wet flesh between, inching down with the pads of his fingers, gently stroking as if she was skittish and he needed to calm her.
She didn’t want to be calmed. When he plunged inside her using two fingers, she moved those last inches that separated their mouths, kissing him hard, sucking his tongue as if it would save her.
He moaned again, and she felt the vibration in her lips, her chest. She bucked against him, forcing his fingers deeper.
He pulled back, both finger and tongue, leaving her, she prayed not for long.
He got to his knees, straddling her. She wriggled a bit and got a smile in response.
A tearing sound distracted her and she looked down to see him pull a rolled condom out of a silver packet. She watched, engrossed, as he unrolled it over his thick flesh. Then his hands moved to her hips where he grasped her panties and pulled them slowly down.
He ran into a snag where his legs and hers touched. Instead of moving, he grasped one edge of her bikini panties in both hands and tore them apart. The sound, the rip, louder than their breaths combined. He looked exceedingly pleased with himself as he dropped the ruined material. Patiently, slowly, he lifted one knee and moved it inside the V of her legs. Then he moved the other until she bracketed him. But it was clear his hold was superior as he pushed her knees apart, wider and wider until he was satisfied. His gaze wandered down from her face to her chest to the view he’d just created. His breath quickened, his chest expanding and contracting like a runner’s, his lips parted, his hands fisted at his sides, then opened with effort.
She felt exposed, more naked than naked as he looked at her with his raw hunger, and she wanted him to enter her, to take her now.
Just as she opened her mouth to beg, he leaned down and braced himself with corded arms on either side of her. He shifted his weight to the left as he used his right hand for guidance.
As she felt the tip of him touch her lips, he whispered, “Jess,” forcing her gaze to meet his.
The connection was electric and wondrous as he slid into her wet folds inch by slow inch, filling her with his body, becoming something greater than him and her.
Both arms now flexed on either side of her as he balanced on hands and knees. The tension in his body was like a bowstring, bunching tighter and tighter, even the cords in his neck. He stared at her, his intensity making her tremble as he thrust in, pulled out, thrust in again. She grasped the comforter in both fists, pulling the material up from the bed. Her hips rose to meet his challenge, and they found a feral rhythm that linked bodies and heartbeats.
There were no words for the feel of him inside her, only grunts and moans, primal and exotic.
Dan’s eyes closed as his thrusts quickened, and her body responded in kind. It was coming, the coil of tension deep in her body like a spring pulled taut. Her mouth opened and she heard her own high keen as if from someone else, someone far away, and then the sound changed and it was her again, as the last bit of tension snapped with an orgasm that started between her legs and spread like a raging fire throughout her body.
He grimaced, arching his neck, his head thrown back with a roar. One final thrust, so fierce she was pushed up the bed, and then he froze, straining, and she trembled as another wave of pleasure burst inside her.
The room darkened around her, her vision narrowing to the circle of his face, still strained to the edges of endurance, his lips curled back, his chin jutting out, his Adam’s apple too large in his throat.
A moment passed, another spasm racked her, and then she felt her hands and her hips, felt the air in her lungs, heard him take a ragged breath as he relaxed.
He looked down and gave her a slow smile. “Holy shit.”
“I concur,” she said, surprised her voice sounded so normal.
“So it wasn’t just me?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
His smile broadened. “Cool.”
Raising her hand, she brushed back his hair from his forehead, enjoying the silky texture between her fingers.
