Page 62 of Prognosis Bad Timing

‘Oh, yes,’ he groaned as her tightness surrounded him.

‘Again,’ she whispered into his ear, the one stroke nowhere near enough. Charlie obliged. ‘Oh, yes,’ Carrie breathed into his ear and he obliged again. And again. ‘God,’ she whimpered, ‘Don’t stop.’

Stop?Was she mad? ‘Carrie,’ he cried as the pressure in his loins built to unbearable proportions.

She felt so good around him - underneath him - Charlie wanted to pound inside her for ever.

Hold close like this for ever, be joined for ever.

But the pressure was working against him, taking over, beyond his control, and he cried out her name as it erupted, pulsing like a molten lava flow through his veins, buzzing

like an electric current through every cell in his body.

And finally spilling out in white-hot ecstasy.

Carrie cried out, too, as her body became embroiled in the heat and rush of her own orgasm – even more powerful than the last. Her body was buffeted by shock waves more violent than the last. An internal mushroom cloud rippling through all the cells of her body. And all she could do was hold onto Charlie, anchor herself to him as they wreaked their erotic havoc.

The tumult rose to a crescendo and then slowly, slowly Charlie came down from the heights. Carrie was still clenching around him and the odd shudder still quaked through his muscles. They were silent, like feathers floating to the ground, only their breathing breaking the quiet.

Not bad for two out-of-practice people.

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