I bit into my lips while he thrust himself back and forth with precision. The movement of his hips made it seem much more like art and much less like sex, but my overly satisfied pussy disagreed.
This was definitely sex.
I began to tingle all over, and an odd pressure built within me. Uncertain if I was on the verge of another monumental orgasm, or if a heart attack was imminent, I opened my eyes.
Bobby was mere inches from us. The lens of the camera panned back and forth from my waist to our very satisfied faces. I glanced between his legs. His cargo shorts did little to hide his level of excitement.
My moaning did little to hide mine.
Convinced I had found my calling in life, I relaxed momentarily, and that little bit of relaxation was apparently all I needed.
The pressure that had been building within me released, sending me into a state of orgasmic bliss I had never known.
I arched my back and cried out, releasing my satisfaction for all of southern California to hear. Rhett breathing became irregular, and after drawing a choppy breath, he followed with a deep moan of his own.
His cock swelled to twice its girth, and with one last thrust, he erupted deep inside of me.
My eyes went wide. “Oh my…”
He returned my wide-eyed stare.
“God,” I breathed.
My body shook for several seconds, as did Rhett’s. When my ears finally stopped ringing and my breathing slowed to a dull roar, he lowered me onto my shaking legs. I stared at him blankly and braced my hands against my thighs – just to keep from falling over.
Although I didn’t look, I felt Bobby’s presence at our sides. His filming of everything undoubtedly took the experience to an entirely different level.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” I asked.
He didn’t say a word, but returned a sinful smirk.
It was all I could do to stand. I shook my head and lowered myself onto the towel.
“That was fucking hot,” he said. “I’m glad you did it.”
I looked up and grinned, holding an imaginary glass high in the air in toast.
Here’s to second chances.