Page 89 of Dreaming of Dawson

“So you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. It’s just not something anyone’s ever done before… probably because my name is so short in the first place. No-one’s ever thought to shorten it further.”

“As long as you’re okay with it?”

“I’m fine with it.”

“Good. In that case, can we get back to the dream sequence?” he says, and I nod my head as I kneel before him once more, taking him back in my mouth. He gathers up my hair, just like he did earlier, and pulls me on to him. “Fuck… that’s good,” he says, his voice a low whisper. “Stop me if this gets too much, babe.” I nod again as he pulls me even closer, and I reach up, giving his balls a gentle squeeze. He’s breathing hard, flexing his hips, and I know he can’t take much more. I’m right, and after just one more thrust, he releases my hair, stepping back and pulling out of my mouth. “Man, that was close,” he says, catching his breath as he leans over and helps me to my feet, pulling me straight into his chest, holding me tight. I put my arms around his waist, licking my lips at the same time.

“You tasted of me,” I say, looking up at him.

“There’s no better taste in the world than your sweet pussy,” he says, and he bends his head, devouring my lips with his, before pulling back and nodding his head. “Hmm… you taste of you, too, now… and that’s so fucking sexy.”

He raises me in his arms again, just like before, only this time, he turns, so his back is against the wall, and as he enters me, I grab his shoulders for support.

“Don’t let go,” he whispers, shifting his feet slightly, before he raises me up, and then lowers me down again onto his erection.

“Oh, God…” The words leave my lips on a low sigh, and I dig my fingernails into his shoulders, using them for leverage as he lifts me up again, over and over, the speed relentless, the stretch divine.

“We did this in my dreams, too,” he says. “But I prefer the reality of your sweet pussy on my cock.”

“Make me come… please,” I whimper, need getting the better of me, and he pulls me down even harder, flexing his hips at the same time. “That’s so deep… so deep.”

“It’s meant to be. Come on my cock, Mace. Let me feel you.”

There’s something about his words, his strength, the way he’s taking me… it’s too much. I move my hands slightly, fisting one in his hair, pulling his head back to kiss him as my orgasm claims me, driving me wild. I’m thrashing against him, but he keeps going, his tongue darting into my mouth as I scream and scream. And even though we’re still kissing, he lets out a groan, which becomes a howl as he swells inside me, and then fills me, his body trembling.

He holds on to me, both of us calming slowly through our tender kisses, and although I thought that was all too much, I think we both know it’ll never be enough.

Chapter Eighteen

Dawson

Man… that was something else.

It wasn’t just the way Macy felt on my cock, or the way she sucked me so deep while playing with my balls. Let’s face it, she wasn’t to know oral sex wasn’t really Stevie’s thing. At least, giving it wasn’t. I never minded, but the thought of it was something that had fueled a few of my dreams over the years, and definitely my more recent ones about Macy. Even so, that wasn’t it. No matter how good that felt, that wasn’t it. Not in isolation. Neither was the way she came, pulling on my hair and screaming into my mouth, thrashing so wildly against me. It wasn’t that it all felt like a dream come true, either… even if it did. No. It was more than that.

It was the sum of all that, and our love.

I know she felt the same way, too. I could see it in her eyes as she broke our kiss, gazing in to mine, and then, as we kissed again, both of us regaining our breath and coming back down from that immaculate high, that was when I knew I’d never stop wanting her… or needing her. And I’d sure as hell never stop loving her.

“I must be getting heavy,” she says, pulling back slightly, although she keeps her hands rested on my shoulders.

“Not in the slightest.”

She chuckles and I join her, raising her up and off of my cock, before lowering her to the floor, although I keep hold of her, unwilling to let her go. She doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to move away and we stare at each other for a moment or two before she licks her lips and says, “Did I hurt you?”

“When?”

“Pulling your hair like that. Did it hurt?”

“No. I liked it. I liked you going kinda wild on me.”

“I liked it too,” she says as she shuts off the water and I look down at her, noting the slight frown touching at her eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not really. It’s just that, although I wish I didn’t, I have to go.”

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