The Fling

17

Shawn guided me to the bed and eased me onto my back before kissing me lightly down my neck, on my collarbones, and between my breasts. When he pushed my bra aside and took my nipple in his mouth, I moaned with pleasure. He sucked one breast while working the hard bud of the other between his fingers for god knows how long, and even though I knew the gummy wasn't hitting yet, I felt delirious. It was so arousing that I was convinced I might come solely from that. Before I could, his mouth started to move further down my body, gently nipping at my tender skin. I was sure he was leaving marks, but I didn't mind. It's not like anyone was going to see them.

When he got to my panties and started to lick me through the lace, I writhed on the bed. How did this man know so much about giving oral at just twenty-four years old? Was it instinctual, or had he consciously decided to learn how to please a woman? If it was by choice, why had my husband never bothered to educate himself? Shaking Bert from my thoughts, I reached down to grasp Shawn's hair and was met with the new buzz cut, which was somewhat disappointing because those curls had been wonderful to hold onto during this act. It didn't really matter, though, because touching his head added to our connection and made the experience even better for me.

Once my panties were substantially soaked, both from his saliva and my own excretions, he pulled them down and slipped two long fingers inside me, teasing my g-spot in a way I'd never been able to do myself. At the same time, he used his mouth to apply suction to my clit. Memories of this technique haunted me when I was alone in my bed at night, and I moaned with relief from being treated to it again.

His head lifted and his eyes locked on mine as his fingers continued to rub circles inside me. "You love that, don't you, baby?"

"Yes," I breathed. "Please don't stop."

Shawn sweetly kissed my inner thigh and got back to what drove me wild.

"Ohhhhhh god! I'm so close," I said minutes later as I felt the build-up deep in my core.

"Not yet, Abigail," he told me before moving upwards and kissing me again, his lips slick with my dew.

He reached over and got a condom from the drawer of his bedside table and rolled it on. In an instant he was inside me. Both of us cried out as he buried himself deep and started to slowly rock his hips. It felt so good, though I was still craving the much need relief of an orgasm. I knew that by waiting it would be stronger, so I focused on the moment instead of that outcome. Being present was important, even during sex, and each thrust delivered a wonderful sensation.

I was so wet, I didn't even feel sore from the repeated in and out motion of his hard dick. He'd go hard and fast for a bit, and then when I whimpered, signaling that I was close again, he'd slow down and swivel his slim hips, bringing the roiling boil inside me back to a simmer. He had control, and I was completely at his mercy.

Shawn eventually took pity on me, slipping a hand between us and massaging my swollen clit with the pad of his thumb. I came almost instantly, screaming expletives I rarely used. He roughly thrust into me as I rode out the intense orgasm, clenching around him in waves which must have pushed him over the edge, because he released right after me with a feral groan.

He collapsed on the bed, pulling me into his strong arms. "You know why this is always so good, right?"

I was pretty sure about what he was going to say, but I feigned ignorance. "No. Why?"

"Because we're both at our sexual peak!"

"As true as that may be, I'm old enough to be your mom," I informed him.

"Bullshit. You told me you're not even forty."

"I got my period at twelve, so if I'd been sexually active a year or so later, I could have had a child the same year you were born."