Page 37 of Corkscrew You
“Uh – hard,” she says, blushing. “Didn’t we both—?”
I’m laughing with her, not at her, I swear.
“No, just you,” I say. “I’m OK. Happy where I am.”
It’s true. Her pleasure was what I wanted, and it’s what I got.
“That’s ridiculous,” she says. “You’ll do yourself an injury.”
“That’s a myth,” I say. “No one’s actually died of blue balls.”
“But – don’t you want to?”
I bend to kiss her. “No rush.”
“Hmm.”
There’s a glint in her eye, and she starts to move under me, bringing me deeper into her. My breathing becomes a little ragged.
“And what if I did this?”
She places her hands on my ass, runs a finger downwards and—
“Shit,” I mutter.
And then I don’t knowwhatshe does, but now all choice in the matter is gone. I let go, give myself up to the bliss of fucking her as hard as I can, until I’m consumed by a knife-edge pain-pleasure that makes me shout out loud.
Now it’s me who’s drowsy. Can barely lift my head off the pillow beside hers. But she’s nudging me in the arm, and I’m forced to.
“Don’t stop,” she says.
“What?”
“Don’t stopmoving,” she whispers urgently.
“OK?” I’m dazed, but still hard enough to comply.
Holy shit, three seconds later, she’s coming again, and it seems to go on forever. I’m torn between elation and concern that the condom is slipping.
Just when I think I’llhaveto pull out, she shudders to a halt.
Quickly, I extract myself. Condom’s still on, thank you, thank you.
“Sorry,” I whisper.
Pretty sure she can’t hear me. Mind you, I’ve no idea how longIspent in that post-come stupor, so who am I to judge?
It’s the scratching on the door that finally rouses her.
“Stupid cats,” she mutters. “Go away.”
“Feeding time?”
She’s wide awake now. “What timeisit?”
I removed my watch. No idea where I put it. Lean over the side of the bed, and dig my phone out of my pants pocket.
“Five-fifteen.”
