Page 62 of Beyond the Bright Lights

It’s so fucking satisfying.

“Wow,” she breathes, and I’m not sure if she realizes she said it out loud.

Has she never been on top before?

Her pussy walls clamp down, massaging me wonderfully. She's about to come again. I sit up, our chests crashing together.

“Plant your feet on the bed,” I demand, and she does. I wrap one arm around her waist, the other gripping the nape of her neck tight to anchor myself to fuck her.

It only takes a couple more thrusts before she orgasms. This time, I don’t slow down, and her scream is twice as loud, if possible. I take a nipple in my mouth again, relishing in the way her body responds anytime I play with her breasts (which is why I do it so much). I lap and flick and graze my teeth across the hard peaks, making Lana throw her head back and cry out.

“Fuck, Mylan,” she hisses.

Now I'm the one getting close. I've held off as long as I could. I squeeze a hand between our slick bodies, finding her clit and playing with it. The bundle of nerves is swollen, tender. Lana leans her forehead on my shoulder, her fingernails digging into my back. Hard enough that I'll have scratches for sure.

“I can’t,” she cries. “I can’t come again.”

“You can and you will. Be a good girl and do it for me.”

Her cunt tightens around me. Third time’s a charm. Lana explodes with another orgasm, coaxing my release. I bury my head into her neck and grunt as her walls milk me. Then I let go, pumping cum into her endlessly. More cum than all the times I’ve jerked off since meeting Lana. Even more than the time she took me in her mouth.

“Three orgasms down,” I say, my breath fanning against her throat. She lets out a wonderful laugh full of humor and satisfaction.

Wrapped in each other’s arms and still inside her, our breathing begins to subside. After another minute, she carefully lifts off me. My cum, her cum, drips down her thighs. She goes into the kitchen and grabs a wad of paper towels, running them under water first. She wipes herself clean, then grabs fresh ones to hand to me.

“I need coffee,” she says, taking the paper towels from me once I’m done. “Do you want coffee?”

“Isn’t it a little late for coffee?” I ask, knowing exactly where she’s going with this.

“Not if we don’t plan on sleeping tonight.”

The sun is rising when we finish our fifth round of sex. After Lana rode me like a queen on a prized horse, we decided to cuddle. Then we cooked something to eat (for energy). Once our stomachs were full, Lana sucked me off, and I thanked her by eating her out. We showered and fucked in the shower. Then we blasted music and had a dance party in the middle of her living area. She laughed until she cried at my attempts to twerk, and I dared her to do it better, briefly forgetting that she was a cheerleader in high school and college. The cocky smile on my face dropped fast the moment she began moving, remembering every routine as if she performed it yesterday.

She was so sexy in that moment, seducing me with her gyrating hips and shaking tits. Enough that I scooped her in my arms and threw her on the bed.

Our last round of sex wasn’t so much sex as it was making love. It wasn’t frantic or hard or rough. It was slow, sensual, both of us wanting to savor the moment. It was the most intimate sex I'd ever had.

Now the day is fully awake and neither of us have fallen asleep. Golden rays of sun peek through the closed red curtains. The loft is quiet, peaceful, except for the birds chirping outside and our shallow breaths inside.

“Can I ask you about what you said earlier tonight? About not being able to get pregnant.”

She doesn’t answer for the longest time, and if it weren’t for her body tensing beside me, I would have thought sleep finally claimed her. She let out a deep breath that she must have been holding from the instant I asked such a personal question.

“When you questioned me about Tyler not accepting an offer from a bigger, better school,” her words are slow, cautious, “he stayed because I got pregnant.”

Wait, what? That wasn’t in the script.

“I lost the baby. Tyler had already accepted the full-ride to Arkansas State. We talked about him changing schools, but he said he couldn’t leave me, not when we both just lost our child. I told him I would have followed him to any school, but that was unrealistic because I didn’t have a scholarship to those other schools like he did. I had grants to pay for my tuition at Arkansas State. I couldn’t afford to go to any other school. Therefore, I stayed, and he stayed too. For me.”

“How did losing the baby affect—”

“They had to do an emergency hysterectomy.”

“Oh, Lana—”

“It’s a lot of uncomfortable, graphic details that I don’t want to share, and you don’t want to hear.”

But I do want to hear. I want to know everything, but I won’t push her to tell me anything she’s not ready to disclose.

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