Best Friends Forever

Ayla pulled at his shoulders and her feet wrapped around his thighs, trying to help him reach her center.

“Let me in, Ayla,” Mick hissed as he renewed his efforts.

The command opened psychological floodgates, letting her pelvic muscles relax, and all at once Mick was finally buried inside Ayla once again.

Ayla clung to him, urging him to fuck her deeper and harder, to reach the secret places deep inside that only he had ever touched.

He kissed her mouth, joining them fully as his hips continued to piston and drive his cock into her.

“I’ve been thinking about this too,” he growled. “Ever since I first had you. The best and only pussy I ever want again.”

Ayla came furiously.

The ecstasy was jarring; Ayla had grown accustomed to quenching her desires solo, but this was akin to the difference between ordinarily eating a Hershey’s Kiss to get your chocolate fix and then being given a slab of hot fudge cake.

She thrashed and clung to Mick’s sculpted torso, biting his shoulder to anchor herself to him even more deeply.

Mick could feel her insides clenching, clinging to him, urging him along. Deeper. Harder. More.

He obliged as best he was able, shifting from a supine position to kneeling between Ayla’s splayed legs, folding them up against her chest as he varied the angle of his attack.

Ayla bit her lip as he drove into her, ponytail long gone, blonde hair splashed all over the pillows where she thrashed her head from side to side.

Her second climax caught them both off-guard, rolling in powerfully after the first. She hissed through gritted teeth, “Yes! Fuck!”

This time, Ayla’s spasms almost worked to force Mick to finish, before he was ready. He withdrew just in time, with a loud gasp.

Before Ayla could voice her concerns that something was wrong, Mick allayed her fears. “You feel so good, love. Almost too good. I want to make this last.”

Ayla nodded and watched, through glazed eyes, as Mick lowered himself, his handsome face an eyelash from her wet, quivering sex.

He mercifully resumed kissing all around Ayla’s opening, her inner thighs, above, and below. The aftershocks had her too sensitive for direct contact, which he seemed to understand.

Her fingertips explored her torso, grazing her nipples. When she was ready to continue, she whispered, “More. Please, more.”

Mick engulfed her opening with his mouth, his tongue extending to fill her where his cock had just been.

Ayla melted into the bed, her bones turning liquid and allowing for no movement.

Mick swirled and probed, French kissing Ayla passionately between her legs. His arms wrapped around her thighs and held her hips in place, and he was quickly rewarded with a fresh flow of the sweet honey he’d longed for since that evening atop the garage.

He kissed the backs and insides of her thighs as she recovered, and although she longed for his cock, he was not yet finished with devouring her.

When she was ready, he gave her a long, slow licking, backing away when she began to tremble.

The torment was exquisite, and her hands were in his hair while she whimpered and called out his name when he finally granted her release.

She tasted herself on his kiss when he penetrated her again, a deep dicking that she knew she’d feel for days afterward.

Their lips stayed in contact throughout the grueling fuck, and when it reached its crescendo she locked her ankles behind him. She’d never needed anything as badly as she needed Mick Merryweather to fill her again, to empty himself inside her.

Mick had no intention of pulling out; Ayla felt too fucking good. In and out he thrust, his pace quickening. She noted a flash of confusion on his face, a moment of vulnerability, and he exploded.

The jets of Mick’s release splashing inside her triggered Ayla’s most massive orgasm yet, and she saw stars as she shook in what she feared resembled a seizure. But she had no control of it, feeling ice cold and volcanic hot all at once, lightning bolts crashing up and down her spine.

Mick reluctantly rolled over onto his back, his fingers intertwined with Ayla’s. They stared at the ceiling as their breathing slowed, and when they both turned simultaneously to look at each other, neither could stifle a giggle.

After a time, Mick leaned over Ayla, up on his elbow, and he began to kiss her again. Her forehead, the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her chin. Down along the side of her neck and to her flushed chest.