St. Peter's Church

22** (part 2)

John's POV

When he hit a certain spot, I felt this rush of pleasure, sending a tingle down my whole body. By this point, I knew what made Paul gasp in the bathroom last night, and I'm certain that whatever I hit on him was the same place he just hit on me.

He was back at his steady pace, but kept hitting that same spot over and over; I felt like I was going to succumb to the pleasure it was giving me, and I started to let out high-pitched, gravelly moans, making every inch of masculinity leave me at once.

My hands that were once gripping at the thin fabric covering the mattress were now on Paul's back, and my fingernails scratched at his skin. I must've broken the skin as I did that, because he hissed, and his thrusts got faster.

My moans got much more frequent, and I could feel myself drawing closer and closer to my climax with each hit he took to the spot inside of me.

By this point, our eyes met, and that only made the wave of heat in my core come back, making my climax closer. "I want to see you when you cum. Keep your eyes open," Paul groaned.

Sweat was covering both of our bodies, making us slightly slick, but luckily Paul had a strong grip. I managed to force myself to keep my eyes open, getting closer and closer by the second.

My mouth was parted, which was only part of this experience, and I knew my face was probably a bit scrunched up.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," I cried out, keeping my eyes as open as I could, keeping them locked on Paul's. Not even two seconds later, I shot a few thick, hot ropes onto my stomach; I didn't even know I could shoot like that, but I guess my orgasm was strong enough that it made me.

Paul pulled out rapidly, stroking himself fast before he came, aiming for the same place my cum was.

What made this even wilder is that Paul didn't automatically do what I thought he was going to do, which was get us cleaned up; instead, he dipped his finger in our mixed release, tasting it.

"Paul, that's both of ours," I pointed out. "Yes, I know that," Paul responded, tucking his cock back into his pants and zipping them back up, "But you're covered in cum... I'll go get some wet cloths and clean you off. I'll be right back."

I sat, covered in sticky unpleasantness, before Paul came back, wiping me off. "Are you alright?" He asked after cleaning me. I felt a bit nauseated, and I think he could tell, and that was what he was referring to.

"Yes, I'm alright," I answered. I was fine mentally, and still overcome with the happy chemicals all of that gave me after I came, but being pounded kind of made me motion sick, with how hard I was being rocked.

"Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Paul said, "I'll be willing to take care of it for you."