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Four Fun (Four)

Page 5

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“What’re you doing?” My words are slurred. I’m speaking through a hazy sex fog.

“Let’s try something different.” Shane takes my arm and pulls me to standing, giving me time to find my footing. When I’m steady, he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me onto his lap facing him, my knees on each side of him.

A rare flicker of self-consciousness ripples through me. I’m a sweaty mess. My hair is sticking to my cheeks and I wouldn’t be surprised if my skin is flushed red from the recent exertion.

The position is a bit too intimate for my liking, but it gives me a first-rate view of Shane, who’s not looking any worse for wear after all of his effort. In fact, his skin is positively glowing, his muscles are primed, and everything about him conveys peak physical fitness. He looks like he could pick me up and run five miles carrying me without breaking much of a sweat.

“Ride me,” he says.

I’m semi-exhausted from being fucked so hard, but I tell myself I’ll sleep all day tomorrow if my body will give me the burst of energy I need right now, because I don’t want Shane to go unsatisfied, and I really want more of him too.

I lift up and sink down onto his cock, taking him inside me, pleased to realize that I get to set the pace this time — though the pace he kept in me was absolutely perfect. His cock hits a spot deep inside me that feels so good, and each time I grind down, my clit rubs against him in a way that drives me wild. Maybe this position has more going for it than I thought.

Shane takes my breasts in his hands and pinches my nipples between his fingers. Before I know it, another orgasm rushes in, flooding me with bliss, briefly taking me out of time and space.

He keeps me riding the waves, and when I come down, he bends to suck on my hardened nipples and presses his thumb into my clit. Everything is too sensitive, and I start to tell him to stop, but before I can say anything, he makes me come again.

“Oh my god, yes!” I grind down onto his lap and hold tight to his strong shoulders as I’m overcome. It’s more intense than ever, coming deep from my core and seizing every cell in my body in an extended period of ecstasy.

Even though I’m barely present, something in me must sense a change in him, because my eyes squint open to see Shane’s face clenched in his own climax. His jaw is tight, his teeth are gritted, and his eyes are squeezed shut. Inside me, I feel him pulsing.

We’re coming at the same time.

That never happens, and what would the odds be of it happening during a single encounter? That’s the kind of thing I imagine two people who know each other’s bodies really well could work toward.

I steal another glance at his face. He’s over the peak, but still in the throes, and he’s beautiful. He’s a stunningly attractive man, and never more so than while he’s losing himself inside me.

I’m breathing hard, trying to return to normal, feeling vaguely uncomfortable, though I don’t know why. My body should be flooded with every kind of feel-good chemical it can produce, and this may be the best sex I’ve ever had, so I’m not sure what the problem is.

Maybe I’m just tired, and now that things are winding down, I’m looking to relax.

Shane’s breath is heavy too. He rests his forehead against mine and strokes a hand over my cheek before brushing strands of my hair back behind my ear.

“That was so good,” he says. When he starts to caress my back, I realize that he’s still inside me. I hold the base of the condom and slide myself back until my feet reach the floor and our bodies are disconnected, and then I look for my discarded clothes.

“The bathroom’s just to the right,” I say, gesturing to the doorway of my bedroom.

While he’s out of the room, I put my clothes back on, not bothering with my bra. I’ll shower after he leaves.

As soon as my pants are snapped, Shane strides back into the room, his cock already semi-stiff again, giving me wild thoughts of asking him if he wants to go another round.

“Are you free after work tomorrow night?” he asks, sitting down on the bed, seemingly in no hurry to get dressed.

I wasn’t expecting the question. “I don’t do that,” I say. “I told you —”

He cuts me off, a smirk on his face as he says, “I’m not asking to be your boyfriend. I’m asking if you want to get together again.” His eyes flicker to the spot on my bed where we were just connected, his cock deep inside me, his arms around me.


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