“I feel good? That feels good.”
Lindy grabs my shoulders, and her hips swivel softly. I let her set the rhythm, barely moving at all as I let her show me what she wants and what she’s okay with. My hand is still on her breast, so I tease her nipple while she grinds down on my hand. She swivels her hips, rocking into my finger and against my very hard dick. I don’t think anything has ever felt so good or so torturous all at once.
“Oh god,” Lindy moans. “Kirian, I…”
I can feel the way her walls are clenching around me. “Yes, baby, that’s right. Come for me.”
I’m worried about it being too dirty, way too much, or way too fast, but Lindy throws her head back, arches her back, rolls her hips faster, and releases. She doesn’t say a thing, just makes little breathy noises with her head thrown back, but her ass swivels against my dick so hard that I’m pretty sure I’m the one seeing waves and stars. All while grinding my teeth into oblivion, clenching every muscle tightly in my body, and making wild threats to my dick about keeping his act together.
She pulses and rocks against me for a few more moments before her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me with heavy lids. She leans forward and kisses me softly, scraping her teeth over my bottom lip in a way that nearly makes a ‘dicksplosion’ happen again.
“Oh god,” she whispers. “That was just…oh god.”
I can’t help but grin. It’s probably a bit of a shit-eating grin, but it’s also an I seriously appreciate you letting me watch as I pleasure you kind of grin.
Lindy rocks against me again before she shifts away and glances down. “Oh. Oh my. Uh, does it hurt?”
My dick bobs in response like he’s nodding. My head hits the back of the couch—hard—when she reaches down and grabs me through my pants. Without a pause, she closes her tight fist over my dick and starts stroking it.
“We should do something about it.”
“I…if you’re not ready, we don’t have to. It’s fine. Just give me five minutes to think dick death thoughts and maybe get me an ice pack, and I’ll-”
“Dick death?” Lindy asks, choking back laughter.
“It’s where one thinks of all the horrible, boner-deflating thoughts one can manage.”
“I see. Well, I don’t want you to think dick death thoughts because I want you to come with me to my bedroom. I spent a lot of money on a new king mattress, and it’s just the right amount of firm. Not too soft that you sink in, or it half suffocates you when you get in, or it leaves a weird outline of your body imprinted on the bed, but also not so hard that you freaking bounce off of it and end up hitting the ceiling when you flop down in exhaustion. If you want to test the firmness of it for yourself…”
Her saying the word firmness very nearly causes another ‘dicktastrophe.’ Also, when she leans forward, looks me right in the eye, and winks, I’m very nearly gone.
“With cats or without?” I somehow manage to grind out.
“Oh, definitely without.” Lindy can’t keep a straight face. “I’ll lock them out, obviously. They’re all under four years old, and they’re still very playful, so dangling things might garner unwanted attention.”
“Dangling things?”
“You know.” Lindy flushes bright red. “Like bits. Male bits.”
“Oh, yes, male bits. I really would not like those to be attacked.”
“No. That would be bad.”
“I agree. Very bad,” I reiterate.
“So I’ll make sure they’re all out of the room. They might meow angrily at the door, though, providing very unromantic mood music.”
“That’s okay.”
She takes my hand and squeezes it. She just holds it for a few seconds, tightly, letting me know she’s still okay. When she looks at me, I see no doubt there. Just desire. And it makes me clench up tightly inside because I want her, but even more than that, I want to give her all the good things, all the things she’s never had before. Like someone to have her back, someone stable. Someone who doesn’t run out on her, who treats her right, and who makes sure she knows she’s worth the entire universe.
And I want to give her more orgasms.
If I could keep giving her pleasure all night and not once take it for myself, that would be okay too because watching her come, feeling her tremble as she rides out all the pleasure, and giving her climax after climax…well, it is far sexier than giving myself pleasure. And I can’t think about her reciprocating at the moment, or the ‘dicksplosion’ will be real. So. Very. Real.
I wrap my arms around Lindy’s waist and scoop her off the couch with me. “Which way?” I grunt, sounding more and more like a troglodyte, although that’s probably also because my balls are clenched so tightly that they’re cutting off oxygen and blood flow to my vocal cords. I wonder if that’s a thing. It probably is—asphyxiation by ball sack.