Page 56 of Sharing Shane

“Don’t let go,” he told her, and leaning forward just enough to lodge the head of his dick against her spread opening, pushed.

The thick length of him slid deep, the lube cutting the friction so he glided forward unimpeded until his balls pressed against her ass and his pubic hair tickled the backs of her fingers. She let out a strangled groan, because God, he felt good.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his eyes locked on the spot where they joined, and pulled back to do it again.

“Lube is so awesome,” she panted, loving the slick slide of him going in and out, reveling in the press and stretch without the pinch of pain.

“Yeah,” he replied and shoved into her just a little harder.

“Oh,” she cried, and her hands, slick with lube and her own arousal, flew to his arms.

“Too much?” he asked, holding himself deep.

She shook her head. “No. You just surprised me. Keep going.”

He pulled back slowly. “I want to go hard,” he warned. “You okay with that?”

“Yes, that. Hard.”

He took her at her word, his hips hitting her with a jolt that she felt all the way to her toes. Then he lowered himself down so his arms were braced by her head and his chest rubbed against her breasts and kept doing it.

She lost track of time. Skin grew slick with sweat, his and hers, making her breasts rub and glide against his chest. Her hands slipped off his arms to clasp his ribs, to run them over his back and feel his muscles bunch and clench as he drove into her over and over again. He paused once to add more lube, then dove back in at the same steady, driving pace.

And the whole time, he talked.

He talked about how good she felt, how hot and slick her pussy was, how good it had tasted. He told her how sexy she looked, flushed and dazed from one orgasm, and how much he wanted her to have another. He talked about the softness of her skin, the hardness of her nipples, how she smelled like ripe peaches and sex and how hard it made him and how much he wanted to come inside her. He talked so much he started to go hoarse, and every word pushed her harder toward a second orgasm that suddenly, didn’t seem so impossible.

Her fingertips dug into his ribs as she felt the slow, steady build between her legs, deep in her belly. “I think I might come again,” she moaned and triumph flashed in his eyes.

“What do you need?” he asked, his pace never slowing.

“I don’t know.” She knew if he touched her clit directly right now it would be too much, but she needed something to push her over. “I don’t know.”

“How about this?” he asked, and sat up, shoving his knees under her butt again. He grabbed her hips and dragged her even further forward, then began moving again in sharp, short thrusts.

“Oh, my God!” Her eyes popped wide as the angle forced his dick against the front wall of her cunt. “What is that?”

“Piercings,” he grunted. “Good?”

She nodded frantically and her hands locked onto his wrists, digging in as the pleasure built. “Don’t stop, ohmigod, don’t stop don’t stop don’t—oh!”

Her head went back on a choked scream as the orgasm burst free, her body jolting and jerking as her cunt clamped down on him. He kept thrusting, forcing himself through the spasming tissues, and it was so fucking good she just kept coming.

She was still coming when he abruptly shoved her legs wide and came down on top of her again, his forehead pressing hard into her breastbone as he ground into her once, twice, then stiffened and came.

He throbbed inside her, filling the condom with pulsing jets. His head was grinding into her sternum hard enough to bruise, but she was still coming and didn’t care.

Then they both collapsed, sweaty and spent and quivering with aftershocks, and Veronica marshaled what brain function she had left to concentrate on getting her breath back.

Just when she was starting to think she might regain the power of speech, he picked up his head and pressed his mouth to hers. The motion shoved him deeper and she jolted, moaning into his mouth. He kissed her slowly, leisurely, stroking his tongue over hers as though he had all the time in the world, and by the time he raised his head she was breathless again.

“Sorry,” he murmured, and he was still so close that his lips brushed against hers when he spoke, every word a whispering kiss. “I just realized I forgot to do that.”

God, he was sweet. “You didn’t forget to kiss me.”

“I forgot to do it enough.” He shifted to wrap a hand around the base of his penis to keep the condom in place and lifted himself off her.

She winced when he pulled free, her pussy sensitive and sore, and he noticed. “You okay?”

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