Page 6 of Faking With The Frenemy

“Take me inside,” she said quietly.

I looked at her. “Are you okay?”

She smiled and rested on my shoulder. “We just got started.”

3

Alessia

I felt the warmth of the sun on my face before I noticed the yellow light streaming in through the open windows. Since we started, Michael’s thrusts had lost neither passion nor vigor. I closed my eyes as he squeezed my breasts and kissed my shoulders. He stiffened and groaned in pleasure before collapsing on me, his breathing ragged.

His shaft, still hard, throbbed inside me. I looked out the window again and fought with the logic of it. Did we really go at it from nightfall until daybreak? It seemed impossible, but the proof was undeniable. The freakish part of it was that Michael still did not seem satisfied. He nibbled on my neck, his hardness still twisting my insides. It had been at least eight hours of nonstop intercourse, and somehow, he remained hard as a rock.

“I must have smashed all my previous records by a country mile,” he said, his breath restored. “That was amazing.” He slid out of me, causing a small pool of fluids to trickle out in his wake.

I moaned with satisfaction, grateful that the monster of a sex organ was finally out of me. I was completely sore, and my insides felt like a ravaged town in the aftermath of a hurricane. Michael had taken me a million different ways, and I tried to keep up for the most part, stoking his flames and driving his passion and desire to a frenzy.

I turned slowly to look into his beautiful gray eyes. The sun kissed his face warmly, making him even more gorgeous. I took a picture in my mind of him at that moment. I blinked rapidly and stored the image in a precious part of my brain. I had taken a thousand such pictures of him through the course of the night.

As we tossed and turned, pleasuring each other, I captured the moments: the look on his face right before he came, the beads of sweat on his face and chest when he was in rhythm, the intense look in his eyes when he drilled me, everything. I captured every inch of his beautifully sculptured body. From his fine slicked-back hair to his trimmed and polished nails, he was a work of art, a specimen of creation, and I captured all of him.

I had memorized every detail and was confident that I could draw him from the memory I wanted. I was excited and couldn’t wait to get started. I couldn’t wait for the breathtaking process of transferring all we had shared onto a piece of canvas, the stroke of my brush reminding me of his powerful strokes.

I kissed him softly on the lips; he put an arm around my waist, moving his hand downward and grabbing a handful of my butt. It sent a small jolt through my body, waking my senses. He drew closer to me. I felt his shaft poke my thigh, rock hard again.

I pulled away and pushed at him slightly. “That’s enough for one night, don’t you think?”

He laughed brightly and pulled me close. “Fine, since you asked so nicely. It’s not my fault that you’re so beautiful, you know.”

“Right.” I pulled into his embrace and lay on his chest, feeling his heart racing underneath. His desire amazed me. I had never found someone with whom I could express myself as completely as I had just done with Michael. Still, he wanted even more. Alarmingly, so did I.

I knew there was a great connection between us, and I had expected the sex to be amazing. I hadn’t expected it to be this good, however. Michael just kept going, taking short breaks only when he felt the need to rehydrate.

“Damn,” Michael hissed. “I can’t believe we did not sleep.”

I turned my head slightly to look at him, smiling. “Are you good? Are you alright?”

“I am a bit tired, but I’ll live,” Michael replied. “We need to get out of bed, though. Wouldn’t want to have certain ideas again.”

I laughed and rolled off him. “You’re absolutely right.” I gestured to his groin. “I need to stay away from that for a little while.”

He glanced down, then smiled satisfactorily with himself. “That was nicely done, huh?”

“Get over yourself,” I replied, getting up from the bed. “I am going to take a shower.”

I walked to the bathroom, and my legs felt like jelly. The action felt unfamiliar, almost like it was the first time I had walked in my life. I felt giddy like I had spent the entire night drinking and getting wasted. My vision swam, and it took me all the effort in the world to get to the bathroom.

“I would like to take a shower, too,” Michael called out from the bed. “Mind if I join you?”

“Absolutely,” I shrieked from the bathroom door. “You can go as soon as I finish. I am locking this door just in case you have any funny ideas.” I could hear him laughing as I clicked the lock. I smiled and got in the shower.

I let out a breath of relief as the warm water poured down on my head. I felt completely worn out but filled with life. I had never been so thoroughly satisfied in my entire life. I must have had nine orgasms during the course of the night. Or ten? A lot.

I stood for a long time under the water, doing nothing but allowing the water to restore my senses. My legs steadied, and my vision cleared enough for me to wash properly. I remained in the shower for several minutes, just enjoying how the water felt on my skin.

I got out eventually, feeling refreshed and awake. I grabbed a towel and wrapped up my hair, tying another around my torso. I didn’t feel the least bit sleepy. This was unusual for me, as I enjoyed sleeping for long periods. I was only excited to spend the day with Michael.

When I returned to the bedroom, he was still sprawled in bed, naked. He turned his head lazily to look at me, smiled, then closed his eyes again. He was such a beautiful man. I headed to the vanity and sat down to brush out my hair. I heard him get up and walk toward me.

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