Page 65 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
My black sweater zipped over my head and was on the table and damn, my shoes were off, and oh there, his shirt was off, and he pressed into me, hot skin against hot skin.
“You good with this?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, looking him in the eye, feeling bold. Feeling like I could hold my own against this beautiful man I’d wanted ever since I saw him.
My skirt came off. “No panties. You’re an angel.”
His pants slid down, and I saw his dick for the first time. Huge, perfect, throbbing. Mine. A magic condom appeared, and he threw it on the table, ready for us.
And then his fingers were on me, those rough fingers, now somewhat healed, teasing, stroking insistently, making me swell, making me wet for him.
God, it felt good.
God, he hit the right spots.
“I’m gonna make you come so hard,” he said, kissing me, rubbing me, and with a flick of his other finger, my bra was off and my nipple was in his mouth. He sucked it with gusto.
I loved it.
He took what he wanted, but gave me so much more.
I leaned over and caressed his balls. “Oh yes, you’re a goddess, do it.” And I cradled them with my fingers and then worked my way up to his cock, stroking it, then pumping it.
And without thinking, I was on my knees, my mouth poised at the tip of his cock. I looked up at him and smiled, and then stuck out my tongue and ran it all over his dick, wetting it, lubing him up.
Then I started sucking him, going up and down, my cheeks puffed out like a trombone player, almost gagging on how big he was.
“Oh my God, baby, you are so beautiful, I want my cock in your pussy, and I want it there now. You’re so fucking,fuck.” I’d taken to pumping him with my hand as I sucked. I looked up at him, and he looked down at me. He tilted his head back and said, “No, not that way. I gotta have you. Come on.” He pulled me up and kissed me again, hard. He grabbed the condom on the table and ripped it open, putting it on quickly, while saying, “I’m gonna take you on this table.”
“Do it,” I gasped, and I lay on the farmhouse table, my breasts pressed against the cool, green paint, my legs parted. He ran his hands down my sides.
“Spread your legs more, gorgeous. Good girl. That’s it, goddamn, you’re so perfect.” He positioned his cock between my legs. “That’s it, okay, now we do this.”
And he pushed in.
Ohmigod that felt so good, so full, and so fine. So much better than I’d ever imagined it. And I’d spent plenty of time imagining him undressed.
He put his hands on my waist and said, “Pull that beautiful ass out, yeah, oh that pussy is so fucking good, oh fuck,” and he started moving gently, but with a wiggling motion that hit the right spot.
He reached his hand around my hip and down between my legs and teased my clit as he thrusted.
“We’re gonna do this. You’re gonna come so hard, and I’m gonna come so hard.”
He was right.
I was so wet.
I wanted him.
I found myself saying things I’d never said in my life, like “Fuck me,” and pleading, “Harder, please.”
“Whatever you say, gorgeous,” and he increased the thrusts, letting me feel him, letting me clench around him, letting my clit react to his caresses. I could feel my orgasm coming, the O making my muscles tense, my brain go fuzzy, and I started focusing on that and only that and now, I had to have it now. I had to have the release and it had to be now, please oh please let me come now, and it built and I stepped to the edge and—
Oh yes, I soared over the edge, and I came.
My body involuntarily shook, everything shaking, letting go, and the pure pleasure invading my body and going out my fingertips and toes.
He rode it out with me, keeping it going, and then gasping and doing this fantastic male groan and collapsing onto my back. He nipped at my shoulder and shook out his release as I lay on the kitchen table.
