Page 204 of S is for SEX

Riley sat up slightly in the chair and shifted her eyes to my crotch as I continued to pound away.

“Watch, it helps,” I said sarcastically, repeating her comment from the first night we had sex.

“I can’t watch…for…long,” she said.

I grinned, gripped her waist in my hands, and pulled my hips back slowly. As my stiff dick slid from her wet folds, she sighed. After a moment of staring down at the head of my cock, I shifted my eyes slowly along her body, eventually stopping at her face.

The most beautiful woman in the world is made even more so by simply shoving her full of a good stiff dick.

“Ready?” I asked.

“For?”

“Ready?”

“Yep,” she said with a nod.

I watched my cock disappear until my balls were against her ass crack. After a few seconds of savoring the feeling of her warmth, I began to pound away without mercy. My physical condition wasn’t the best in the world, but my determination was unmatched by any man.

As I thrust my hips back and forth, taking as long of strokes as I was able to without completely pulling out, Riley’s labored breathing became apparent and louder than the sound of our slapping flesh or the music playing in the background.

After a few minutes, she began to wail.

The sound of her reaching climax was all I needed.

My call to action.

As she cried out into the room, her pussy contracted around my throbbing flesh. I buried myself deep inside of her and groaned as I exploded every ounce of my love deep within her soul.

“That…”

“Was…”

“Amazing,” she said.

“I love fucking you,” I said.

She exhaled a heavy sigh. “Good, because I love it when you fuck me.”

I leaned forward, kissed her stomach, and stood for a moment and absorbed her beauty. As her eyes fell closed, I grinned and shuffled to the bathroom. After cleaning myself in the sink, I pulled up my jeans, buckled my belt, and gazed into the mirror.

My life had changed drastically. I had been living a life complicated with a combination of fact and fiction and lived somewhere in between in a world of uncertainty. Often incapable of separating what was genuine from what was contrived; my mind resided in limbo. Now, attempting to comprehend the reality of the dream I was living in seemed confusing.

It was almost as if none of it could be real.

The bathroom door opened. I stared blankly at Riley’s reflection in the mirror. I reached out and pressed my hand against the cold glass, obstructing the image of her face. After a moment, I slid my hand to the side and blocked my own reflection.

As her hand touched the bare skin of my upper arm, I turned and glanced over my shoulder.

I needed proof.

“I want you to do something for me,” I said.

She squeezed my arm lightly. “Name it.”

“I want you to tattoo me,” I said.

“What?” she gasped.

“Just something simple, I’ll guide you through it,” I said as I shifted my eyes toward the mirror.

As I gazed at our reflection, she leaned forward and rested her chin on my shoulder.

“If that’s what you want,” she said.

“It is,” I responded.

I simply needed to know for sure.

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