Strangers in the Night

ber frame. Her breasts were small and pert, cheeky, and the lines of her body were sleek. At her groin, her pubic hair was trimmed into a landing strip. That made him smile. She wore nudity with no self-consciousness, which didn’t surprise him.

Liberated of her clothing, she clambered over the bed, and he realized she meant to take charge again. When she climbed over his thighs, he put one splayed hand between her legs, making her stop. He gave her an admonishing glance.

“Ben,” she murmured, and pushed against his hand.

“So wet,” he whispered, and stroked her slit back and forth, spreading her cream over her clit and rubbing it.

The effort to answer was obviously too much. Her head dropped back and her expression was thoroughly transported. He stroked her again. She moaned aloud when he circled her clit, so he did it again. And again. She was gone on it. Her eyelids lowered, her mouth opening in response to each movement. A moment later her body shuddered and she exhaled, a lot.

“You’re driving me crazy, Patrice. Lie down, I want to fuck you properly.”

She gave a breathless laugh and then rolled over.

“Oh, so you don’t mind being on your back,” he commented as he stripped off the rest of his clothing and climbed between her legs. “I was beginning to wonder.”

“Sometimes.” Her eyes twinkled. “Was I too much, earlier?”

“I enjoyed it, but I have some steam built up, lady, and you’re going to find out just how much, very soon.” He grabbed his jeans, hunting down another condom.

“I got kind of eager. I haven’t had sex in a long while.”

“A woman like you should be having sex all the time,” he responded, while he rolled the condom on. Kneeling between her open thighs, he draped first one and then the other of her legs over his shoulders, hauling her body toward him so that his cock rested against her pussy.

She grinned. “I like you, Ben, I like you a lot.”

Moving his hand beneath his erection, he rubbed his thumb over her clit again, admiring the arch of her neck when she moved in response to his touch. Holding back was hard, but watching her rise in pleasure was good. “You should have a man in your bed all the time. Why isn’t there a man in your bed, Patrice?”

“Ben,” she whispered, her back arching, her pert tits jutting out from her chest.

He moved his thumb lower, marveling at how wet she was. His cock was rock hard and demanding entry. But he wanted to find out, so had to push her for an answer now, quickly. “Tell me, I want to know.”

“Just because I want a man now, doesn’t mean I need a man all the time.” The way she spoke, so provocatively French and blasé, didn’t tell him enough.

“Go on, there’s more.” He pushed one finger inside her, stroking the sleek, slippery walls of her cunt. When she clenched hard around his finger, his cock jerked up against his belly, his balls riding high. He was mad for it, and he had to clench his teeth to help him stay focused.

She half sat, and slid her hand around his cock as she boldly dared him, flashing her eyes. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to?”

“Oh yes, I want to all right. But I also want to know all about you.”

She dropped her head back, smiling ruefully. “There was a man. A husband. He couldn’t cope with me, he found a better match.”

For a split second he regretted pushing her, but then he saw how much she wanted to hear his reply, and the uncertainty that flickered in her eyes as she waited for his response. “Not man enough for you, eh? His loss, I say.”

Her body undulated with pleasure. “No. He couldn’t cope with me at all.” She gripped at his forearms, and stared directly into his eyes. “Not like you can, Mr. Ben O’ Neil.”

“You’re a mercenary woman, preying on my ego like that.” And then he was inside her, sliding deep into that heavenly place.

She clutched him in welcome, and he gave himself over to the moment fully, riding her, relishing every pleasured moan that came from her mouth.

When he felt his orgasm building, he worked his knees further under her bottom, and flexed, riding deep into her sweet spot. His cock was jammed right against the neck of her womb and she was clutching rhythmically. His balls were fit to blow, and his spine was burning.

“Oh, oh,” she cried. “Oh, yes!” She cried out in pleasure, her body rippling. The tight, rhythmic clutch of her cunt on his cock was too good.

When he came, he lost sight of the room. He gripped her hips, pressing deep and staying there as long as he could. She stayed with him, rocking her hips, and when they eventually unfolded and rolled apart, she snuggled close against him, kissing him gently while he surfaced.

“That was the best fun, and the perfect way to end a very memorable evening.”

End the evening? He didn’t want to hear that. He put his fingers to her lips.