Page 25 of Husband Material
The sultry roll of herr's had me instantly hard. "I can think of some ways."
"I think you can too," she said with eyes half hooded and an arch of her back that let me know her pussy was already wet.
I crawled up on the bed beside her and slid my hands up her short skirt for the second time today, hyper aware that I wouldn't be able to do it again after this. I paused to admire the sight of her in nothing more than the lacy pink panties she had on, but not for long. I was on a mission critical with not a minute to waste. "As much as I love this view, I think—no—Iknowthat these have got to go, baby."
She responded by arching her back and shoving her tits out…but best of all, by moaning for me in French. My favorite. I slipped my fingers underneath the lace and pulled them down her long lovely legs to unveil my stunning prize.
Then I slid my hands to the inside of her knees and spread her wide open. Yep, her pussy was wet…and very much in need of my mouth. As I descended to kiss and lick her to a perfectly pitched crying orgasm, in French of course, one thought looped through my head on repeat:How will I survive never doing with her again?
The knowledge that this was the last time was felt by both of us. So, while the sex took on a sort of harried urgency, we also relished each and every moment. After I made her come the first time, I stripped away every remaining stitch of clothing from her body until she was naked and perfect just as God had made her. I did the same with my own clothes while she watched until we were a matched set. We set out to savor the touch of our lips and tongues across every inch of skin we could kiss. My lips found a mole on the back of Giselle's left upper thigh I'd never noticed before. It felt cruel that I only discovered it now.
My lips skated down the line of her spine and settled on the dip above her ass, and then lower. The desperate moans escaping her pretty lips were music to my ears.
But it was herOh, oui!that I lived for. That was when I knew I was really getting somewhere.
So, when I pulled her to her knees and opened her up to lick at her clit from behind, it was those two words I was gunning for. Even as my fingers slipped into her slick pussy, I didn't let up on my stroking until I heard her say them. The sound was as sweet as heaven's doors opening just for me.
Her golden hair had tumbled free of her ponytail, and now wildly shook as she contorted herself in abandon. Giselle was all about expression…in everything she did in her life. Sexual pleasure was no different an expression for her than the joy in blowing me in a patch of sunflowers. It was beautiful to witness, and I felt like she'd given me a precious gift to be able to be the one to help her with that expression.
When I finally pressed my cock into her sweet, sweet self, that thought disintegrated. All thought did. Thought was transmuted to sensation, two bodies learning and flowing as one.This is the last time.This feasting and clashing of kisses. This stroking and claiming and owning of bodies. This feeling of hands and fingers engaged in a dance nearing its inevitable end.
And, amidst it all, the omnipresent clash of us coming together, the in, the out. More and more, farther and deeper, her tight heat, my penetrating cock. Together. How we were meant to be for this perfect, last time.
And yet, it was too divinely designed to stop. We both moved with a sort of learned carefulness. To make it good, but not too good. Perfect, but not perfect past the point of control. Because then, it would be over.This is the last time.
So, we flowed from position to position like synchronized dancers who'd gone through this a hundred times, until we could make it look seamless. Fucking her became…life. Because every part of Giselle responded exquisitely to my touch. And yet, when she started clasping and grooving my dick into her, and new heights of pleasure started to grip me, I knew with a pang of regret, there was no putting off where this was headed anymore.
Not anymore. Not this finale of finales. This inevitable ending that was in our beginning. This building and growing and becoming.
Oh, ouibecame my refrain as we kept on joining into each other, merging into one unending moan. Flowing us onward. Surging me forward. My dick acting of its own accord. In and out and deeper. More and more. Neurons firing and nerve endings blasting. And through it all,us, coming as one. One organism. One urge. One being satisfying itself and then, finally…one release.
Her cry seemed to come from outside of her and my own groan was something I'd never heard before. I lost control completely, and my body flailed with hers, against hers,ashers.
Finally, it was over. And fuck if that didn’t feel so incredibly wrong. Over. Finished. Last.I hate it.
I held her in my arms. I didn't dare speak, lest I voiced the trite thing vibrating through my whole body, the only thing that would've been right to say:I never want to let you go.
* * *
I woke warm.She was still in my arms. My Frenchy beach fairy was snuggling against me in my bed. Everything felt wholly right and quietly, peacefully, still.
Except…I needed to piss, so I reluctantly disentangled myself from her sleeping form. When I left the bathroom, my bare feet made contact with something. In the sliver of moonlight sneaking through my curtains, I could just make out…my dirty socks.
Smiling grimly, I took one step more, then paused. Cursing to myself, I bent down, grabbed them, strode over to the hamper, and chucked them in.
There.
9
Iwoke up cold.
As soon as my eyes opened, I knew. She'd left. Giselle had gone without even saying goodbye.
Although I did have her cell number by now, I didn't bother, because I knew she'd already shut it off. No, I was almost certain where I would find her.
Tossing on whatever clothes in my bedroom floor radius seemed to take half an instant and several decades too long. Racing out to my car took too fucking long too.
Only a few minutes later, once I merged onto the busy highway, did I realize what I'd been in a race with: my sense of certainty. And if the paperweight lodged in my chest as I stared unseeing at the stream of cars ahead of me was any indication, I had lost.
