Cody
James used her elbows for support, arched her back, and bowed like the St. Louis Gateway as I pushed inside her. She was exquisite, her breasts pushed up, her nipples pink and pert, her head thrown back, her mouth gaping with pleasure, and her blond hair cascading behind her, shimmering in the moonlight. She was so sensitive, shuddering in response to each and every touch. I was certain now. She was a siren and I was so thankful to have fallen into her trap.
I wasn’t lying. I’d never gone bare before. But as soon as she offered, I wanted in. I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. And now, the feeling. Holy fuck. Slick, wet, warm, snug. I didn’t know it would be so different. I should have known. Think about sticking your hand in a jar of jelly wearing a glove; that’s legitimately different than submerging your bare hand. With the glove, it’s clinical, sanitary. Without it, it’s sticky and squishy and cool; there’s texture and depth. But beyond that, beyond the physical sensation of being balls deep in the satin of James’ pussy, there was something innately emotional about it… like connecting this way meshed us on a level I’d never reached before.
“It’s… it’s…” James stuttered.
“It’s so good,” I growled, pulling her hips to me. I watched as she started to shake. Was she crying?
“It’s so intense.” She trembled.
I slowed, shifted, and then lifted her so that her chest was pressed to mine. When her face was close, I could see that she was near tears. “Jesus, James. Are you okay?”
She kissed me deep and then said, “Yes. Better than good.”
Gently, I stood, which was a feat because I was still inside her. Then I turned and sat down at the end of the chaise so that she was straddling my lap, our chests still pressed together.
“You ride,” I said. “Control the pace.” I was afraid I’d hurt her.
Even in the dark, I could see her blush, but she wasn’t a coward. She was absolutely fearless, so she explained herself. “You didn’t hurt me. I… got overwhelmed. It feels...”
“I know,” I said softly.
Above me, she started to rock and kept talking. “It’s consuming, like losing your virginity all over again… like unlocking a whole new level of sex...” It was hard to listen with her palms pressed into my chest and her hips rising and dropping, engulfing my cock, but I did my best to stay focused on her words. Admittedly, her sentence was punctuated by gasps and moans. “Only, instead of awkward and marginally uncomfortable... it’s like fusion... a perfect unyielding feeling of knowing... you.”
“Unforgettable,” I blurted out, now the one arching my back and bucking my hips to push deeper inside her.
Getting quiet, she picked up her pace, rolling her hips hard, back and forth. Her rhythm was even, slow, conscious movements. She was teasing me, keeping me right at the edge. Not fast enough or hard enough to explode, but titillating enough to keep me groaning and aching beneath her. She gathered her hair in her hands, lifting it off her back. It was hot. We were both sweating. I tried to let her ride, to control my hips, but my dick was desperate. He wanted me to roll her over and command her, own her pussy, and hear her beg. With her hair now tied in a knot on the top of her head, she swirled her hips in circles and breathed, “Cody?”
“Yeah?” My hips jumped again, driving up from below.
“Flip me and fuck me.”
Hell, yes. She didn’t have to tell me twice. In seconds, she was on her back and I was deep in her, undulating my hips, pinning her to the chaise beneath her. I looked down, watching my cock slip inside her again and again. I reached between us and fingered her clit.
“Yes,” she purred. “Just like that.”
Exciting her excited me. I’d always enjoyed making a woman come, but this was different. I didn’t just want her to come. It wasn’t my ego at play, feeling swagger that I could please her. Watching and experiencing her pleasure literally triggered mine. Every muscle she clenched raised my heart rate. The pressure in my balls echoed every moan that left her lips. I was so conscious of her. What pleased her was what raced me toward my own release. I bucked harder and could feel her tightening around my cock.
“That’s it,” I growled, hoarse with need. “Come for me. Come all around me. Let me feel it.”
She cried out, clenching my dick deep inside her, and then I felt the walls of her cunt start to pulse and shake as she came. I followed her lead, my cock spasming and spilling deep inside her.
Spent, I crashed the weight of my body into her chest. She wrapped her arms around me, and we lay there quiet for a minute, basking in the shudders and aftershocks of the kind of fucking worth daydreaming about.
Then she whispered, “I felt it.”
I tilted my head up so that I could see her face. “What?”
“When you came. I felt it.”
“Yeah?”
“Did you know that could happen?” she asked, but it seemed rhetorical. “It felt like shooting a water gun into a pool, like the way it looks when bullets crash into water in the movies. Like a pressurized whoosh.” She made the whoosh sound.
“Really? I whooshed?”
She nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, you are totally a whoosher.”
“Whooshing is fun. I wanna whoosh more,” I teased.
“Okay, whooshy. How about we swim? And then maybe you can whoosh in my mouth?”
Still inside her, I felt my cock twitch. He was all about mouth whooshing.
Her eyes went wide with surprise. “Oh my God, are you getting hard again?”
I bit my bottom lip, caught like a kid in a cookie jar. “I like you. My whoosher likes you.”
First, she smiled, and then she quirked her head at me almost like she was confused and said, “You're not what I expected you to be.”
I propped myself up on one elbow. “No? Why not?”
“You’re lighter, sillier.”
“I don’t think of myself as silly,” I said. “I mean, I know I have been with you tonight, but I don’t think my family would call me silly.”
“What would your family say about you?”
“Maybe sarcastic, funny for sure. But in general, at home, I don’t feel playful. Something about you makes me feel playful.”
“Maybe because we’re on an adventure…” She paused, and then quieter and sort of sorrowful, said, “And tomorrow I’ll be gone, so you can be anyone tonight; there are no repercussions.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. I’m not afraid of being judged. I learned really young that shit ends fast. Worrying about other people’s opinions is a waste.” I sat up further and slipped out of her. She huffed out a little sigh at my departure and so did I. Then I rolled and so did she so that we were side by side, face-to-face on the chaise, our legs tangled together. I ran my fingers down the side of her face, brushing a blond strand over her shoulder. I could see the sadness in her eyes, the loneliness. “It’s you. It’s not the situation. You make me feel lighter and happier.”
Again, she shied away from the compliment, the affection, the seriousness, with humor. “No need for flattery. I won’t renege on the offer for mouth whooshing.”
We both knew what our night together was—a one-off, a fling, and I had rules about not getting attached, although I was more tempted to break them with her than I ever had been before. But honestly, she lived in Texas and I lived in Montana. There was no future for us, but I wanted her to know she was special. “No, it’s you. You’re different than I expected too. You’re softer, more open.”
She flinched, almost like I’d offended her. She pouted. “I’m not soft or open. I’m bold and brazen. I’m mysterious and thrill-seeking.”
“Yes,” I delighted. “You are all of those things. But I see your kindness—the note you left for the employees here, standing up to my sister. I also see your heart—how your parents make you feel, how you’ve chosen to trust me, and it’s that stuff, the soft bits, that I find intoxicating.” I ran my hand up her thigh and headed for her pussy. “I’m really into soft bits, like this wet spot right here, absolutely mesmerizing.”
She bit her lip and then scolded, “You’re insatiable.”
* * *