Page 87 of For Cowgirls and Kings
I pull from her heat with a hiss, feeling more like I’ve ripped my soul from my chest, and her eyes fly open.
“What the fuck?”
I stretch out next to her, pulling her on top of me, and line my cock up with her heat again. “Take me Dale. This orgasm, and every one after are yours. Fuck me baby, fuck?—”.
She doesn't let me finish before she slams ontome, her ass recoiling with the force of the impact, and my own finish comes barreling toward me.
She bounces, her tits swaying, head thrown back, and I feel my heart shattering. She’s the most beautiful, incredible person and I know I’ll never be able to deny my need for her again.
If I lose her I won’t survive.
“I’m so close,” she cries, and I grip her hips, making her grind against me once more. “Ohhh.”
Leaning forward she starts grinding harder into me, and then as if hit by a bullet she stills. Her body quivers right before her pussy clamps like a vise on my cock. Grabbing her hips, I thrust up into her, racing to follow her over the edge.
“Mateo!” she screams into my throat, and hearing my name on her lips is enough to finish me. Like a bomb, my release fires through me, and I go to pull out of her as I remember I’m not wearing a condom. But she sits on me, gripping my wrists behind her back.
“Come in me, Mateo,” she pants, and I explode, unable to keep it back a second longer.
“Fuuucckkk,” I groan, my cock throbbing as cum coats the inside ofmy best friend'spussy. It’s the best high I’ve ever known, and if I thought I wanted or needed her before, I was fucking delusional.
This. I know I’ll never be the same—I’m ruined forever.
The sound of the shower turning on pulls me out of a dead sleep. I crack my eyes open to see the bathroom door ajar, soft light filtering through the crack. Tilting my head to the side, Isee the clock reads one in the morning—after having sex a number of times, stopping only once for a rushed bowl of cereal, which led to a new and favorite way to consume milk and strawberries, I brought Dale to bed with me, tucking her perfect, soft body against my own.
She’d showered before climbing in, and I had the sense she wanted a moment to herself. Even though it killed me—I don’t think I can ever be far away from her again—I’d given her space. When she came back to bed, her face was soft and flushed, clearly satisfied, and we’d fallen asleep almost instantly.
So why would she be up now? Did I push her too hard? Was she not as okay with everything as she said she was?
Maybe she’s worried about me coming in her? We never discussed it.
Climbing out from beneath the sheets, I pad across my room, listening for any signs of distress on the other side of the door. I don’t know what the protocol is here. Do I go in and make sure she’s okay? Do I let her have her space once more?
As I draw closer, the unmistakable sounds of humming filter through the wooden door, and unable to resist the urge to be near her, even though every cell in my body warns me about falling too hard, too fast, I push into the steamy room.
Dale’s facing away from me, her long hair wet and glistening like a black waterfall down her back, covering the perfect curve of her ass. The humming becomes louder, the familiar sound of that silly pink pony song bouncing around the tiled space. I don’t bother fighting off the smile that tips my lips.
I’m drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, and before I know it, I open the glass door of the shower, a thick wave of steam blasting my naked form. She continues to hum, her hips swaying slightly as she runs her hands through her hair. The smell of my shampoo rises to my nose, and the thought of her smelling like me, makes my dick twitch.
When did I become such a caveman?
Aching to feel her skin beneath my hands, I press in farther, eyes glued to the droplets running across her skin. They dribble over her every curve, connecting the dots of her freckles in a mesmerizing web that I’d gladly get caught in for the rest of my life.
“Want to wash my back for me?” The cool press of a plastic bottle against my hand pulls me from my trance, and I instantly spring into action.
“It’s kinda late for a shower,” I state, my mind blank as I run a soap slick hand over her back. Beneath my touch, her skin pebbles. After several seconds, I realize she still hasn’t responded, and I stop my path across her body, instead gently gripping her shoulder to twist her to face me.
Her eyes dart everywhere but my own, and I freeze.What did I say?
“What’s wrong? Are you worried about me coming in you?” I whisper, insecurity rearing its ugly head.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m on birth control.”
I rub a hand over her arm, waiting for her to continue.
She nibbles at her lip, before taking a shaky breath, and reluctantly meeting my gaze. “Sometimes I just feel…dirty. It doesn’t matter how clean I am, or how good of a day I’ve had—” Her voice quivers, like she’s afraid I’ll take offense to what she says. “I had the best day Mateo, I promise. It’s just when I finally allow my brain to quiet, I can hear them again. I can feel them, and cleaning myself helps.”
Her words shatter my remaining composure. Here I was, worried about my own selfish insecurities, and she’s back there,with them, battling her demons alone once more. I shake my head, fighting down the sudden well of frustration filling my chest.
