Dear Maverick (Love Letters 3)

It takes a full minute for my brain to catch up to his words because he keeps licking me. “Drawer. In the table.” I point to the piece of furniture like he wouldn’t be able to see it even though it’s two feet from his face.

“Should I wonder why you have these?” His possessive growl makes me squirm as my pussy pulses.

“No. I got bored. You sent all those yummy pictures, and well, I guessed at the size. I hope they’re right. I didn’t even know condoms had a size. Can you return them if they don’t fit? That wouldn’t be very hygienic if you could, though.” Stupid rambling mouth.

“Fuck, you’re adorable.” His hands grip my hips, and he flips me over, so I’m flat on my back. Staring at his… “Jesus Christ, that’s not a bat that’s a goddamn club!”

His quiet laughter is the only response I get as I watch him slide the condom over all that hard, veiny flesh. It’s like stone.

Grasping my knees, he spreads my thighs apart, leaning forward to lick up and down the sensitive flesh, missing where I’d like him the most—my throbbing clit. “Mmm, sugar and spice and everything oh so nice.” His words are slow, drawn out for maximum effect.

“Now, please.” I whimper as he moves forward. I can feel the heat pulsing off his cock sitting just a fraction of space away from my weeping core. “Please, Maverick.”

“Oh yeah, baby girl, moan my name just like that.” Without warning, he pushes between my lips and into my tight channel. “Oh fuckkkk!” All his muscles, from flexing hips to bulging biceps, are straining with the effort of not slamming into me. “Baby girl, fuck, you’re tight.”

My internal walls cling to him like glue. Sucking him deeper into my body until I’m so full of his manliness I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without this all-encompassed feeling.

“God, you feel incredible, Mav,” I whisper in his ear, unsuccessfully trying to hold back my moan.

“Relax, True,” he murmurs while soothing his hands up and down my sides.

I shiver from his light petting. “Please, move. Don’t make me keep begging you.” I push my lip out in a pout.

He swoops down to bite the quiver. The sting is incredibly erotic. “Close your eyes,” he commands, his voice deepening. As soon as I do his bidding, his hips begin a slow slide in and out. Each inward stroke coming harder and faster while he takes his time pulling out, always making sure to rub his shaft against my clit for added stimulation.

With each stroke, I feel my body getting lost in the sensations he’s creating. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I don’t ever want this feeling of completion to end. My fingers and toes tingle as his grunts grow louder. His hips move faster as he leans forward to cover my mouth with his own. His tongue mimicking his cock in motion, speed, and depth.

It’s almost like double penetration but so much better.

“Oh god!” A scream is torn from me as my back bows off the bed, and every sensitive fragment in my body undulates like the Northern Lights. Sparks fly behind my lids as my pussy squeezes the poor man’s shaft for all he’s worth, milking every ounce of bliss this greedy wench can get out of him.

“Oh fuck!” His matching groan fills my ears as I feel him fill the tip of the condom with his hot semen. The way he trembles in my embrace prolongs my own orgasm.

As our breathing evens out, and the full weight of his body registers to my own, I wheeze out, “Can’t breathe.”

Laughter follows his roll over as he takes us to his side. “Sorry.” We watch each other for a while, just laying on my bed full of sweat and the smell of sex filling the room when a thought occurs to me.

“Don’t you want to, you know, take that off or something?” I pointedly look down to his flaccid but still impressive cock that has the condom hanging on by a thread.

Standing, he pulls the offending item free and walks to the bathroom shaking his head and mumbling about filters. I don’t move while he’s gone. I’ve never done this whole sex right after meeting thing, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.

“So,” he says, coming back into the room naked as the day he was born and not in the least self-conscious about it. He’s talking, I can see his lips moving and there’s noise, but I can’t focus. The man is built. He’s got these abs you could bounce a nickel off of and not miss a beat. And his arms! Damn… Those are drool-worthy. Biceps, triceps, and forearms, and his fingers… oh my stars. “True?” he questions like he’s said my name multiple times.

“Yeah?” I’m still distracted. I can’t help it.

“Did you hear me?” His head is tilted to the side like my mom does when she’s fed up with me.

“No,” I respond honestly. “If you want my attention on your words, your body needs to be covered. Too many valleys and dips and veins and… What was I saying?”

“Christ, woman.” He groans, but sadly and thankfully, covers up those beautiful, awe-inducing muscles. There should be some sort of service for that tragedy every time he does it. “Eyes, True!” he calls again. “Up. Here.” His growl is kind of hot.

Looking up into his eyes, I see he’s not upset, just really amused. “What’d you say

?”

Walking over to me, he grabs my sweater from earlier and helps me put it on as he sits beside me. “I was saying, I’ve got a job lined up on a Naval base about thirty minutes from here.”

“You’re really staying? What about your family back east? You barely know me!” This man’s unreal.