Page 31 of Five Summers

As the grinding intensifies, her grip on my shoulders tightens, bordering on pain. I can’t explain why, but I have an overwhelming urge to kiss her. The feeling of someone’s lips pressed against mine is unfamiliar to me. And I have no clue why I’m desperate to taste her mouth.

But I don’t. I hold myself back because I don’t do that shit. I prefer to keep it strictly a transaction to fuck them and then leave to avoid any personal interaction. But still, I want to feel her mouth on mine. I want to snake my fingers under her skirt and rub that sensitive spot. Drive my fingers into her hot pussy. But I can’t do it. Because it could totally mess up this moment and she might come to her senses. I want her to keep going. To find pleasure on her own terms. I’m desperate to see the moment she comes all over my cock.

Her hips grind up and down, then side to side, finding her rhythm to where it feels best. Harder, then faster. Her pussy driving directly over my dick as she jerks me off through my jeans. The temptation to reach out and touch her is overwhelming, yet I am entranced by the spell she has me entangled in. I want to throw her down on this couch and fuck her in every way I envisioned last night when I was stroking my cock.

“Xander,” she cries in a slow, sexy purr. Her body builds as she sinks her nails into my shoulders.

As soon as I hear her say my name, I can’t resist the urge to reach out and touch her. With a cautious movement, I slide my hand beneath her skirt, tracing my fingers over her soaked panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” I add, running my thumb over her sensitive nub.

She’s totally into it, moaning and biting her lip. Her face is so close to mine, that she is practically breathing on me.

“That’s it, baby,” I growl, my voice all hoarse. Leaning forward, I press a gentle kiss on the nape of her neck, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. “Fuck me harder. Make us both come.”

I rub that little clit faster, knowing she is so close.

“Come for me, Princess. I’m right there with you. Yeah, that’s it. Fuck me like that. Can you feel how hard you make me?”

"Xander," she says, leaning in, completely falling apart as she comes.

While I'm mesmerized by her, watching her come, listening to her sexy sounds of arousal, blending with my heavy breaths as hot cum streams over the inside of my jeans. But I don’t care. I've had the most intense and unforgettable experience of my life. And my dick wasn’t even out of my jeans. I can’t remember a time when I’ve come so hard.

Wait… yes, I do. It was the night Poppy had her hot mouth wrapped around my cock.

Her head drops to my shoulder as she continues to ride out the last of her orgasm.

Instinctively, my arms wrap around her as the pleasures of what just happened pulsate through my body. I bury my face in the warmth of her neck, closing my eyes to savor the delicate fragrance that lingers there. Watching her ride me is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. It feels incredible to witness her intense reaction to me. The way her eyes held her desire. The way she called my name. The way she just let go and took what she wanted. It all fell into place and created an unforgettable moment.

Out of nowhere, she freezes, not making a single movement. As she lifts her head, her eyes widen in surprise when she gazes up at my face. Her body tightens under my fingers.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. She's in complete shock and probably feeling a little embarrassed about what she just did.

I watch her face turn a vibrant shade of pink, like a blooming rose. She tries to get up, but I hold on tighter to stop her.

“Don't be embarrassed.”

Her eyes wander up and meet mine.

“I should be embarrassed. I’m the one with jizz all down my leg. You made me blow in my pants like a thirteen-year-old boy. That’s how fucking hot it was, Princess.”

She lets out a giggle that fills the room, her eyes twinkling with delight. Her hand goes over her mouth, trying to muffle the sound.

“No. Go ahead. I'd be laughing too if it wasn't me," I say, smiling at the sound of her laughter.

When her body relaxes, I can see the relief in her expression. I study her pretty face, noticing the delicate curve of her lips and the freckles scattered across her cheeks. Then, out of nowhere, I do something completely out of character. I raise my hand and tuck a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear.

“I might need to use your bathroom.”

She gets up from my lap, her warmth dissipating, leaving an empty space that feels cold.

“It’s down the hall. The second door on the right.”

I follow her gaze to my lap, where a wet spot on my jeans catches my attention.

Rising from the couch, I inquire, “Is the mess from you or me?”

Her cheeks blush a bright red as a direct response to my comment. Sensing her intention to escape, I interlock my fingers with hers, preventing her from getting away.

---