He was so rich.
And so fucking hot.
"Oh, faster baby, oh..." It was my turn now to beg and plead. I was holding onto his shoulders, hearing his grunts in my ear, while he rolled his hips into me. I moaned with each of his thrusts; some high, soft sighs, and some throaty groans. His breath was hot on my shoulder.
If it was one thing I loved was his shoulder blades at this point. I could feel his muscles, feel the indentations of how toned he was in his skin. Feel his bones, how they jutted under layers and flesh and tattoos. I trailed my hands down his spine, down his tendons, like two long hills with the equally long dip in between where his spine lay, arching and rolling like a wave with his movements. I moved back up to his shoulders and clutched closer to him.
He was hitting my sweet spot.
I trembled a little with some pre-release, and called out his name.
"That's it, oh, right there. Harder right there."
My legs were wrapped so tightly around him. Well, my left leg was when my right fell away due to my pleasure. I wrapped it around the back of his thigh instead, and felt my muscles quiver close to where he was penetrating me.
He was diving in deep.
I lifted my whole body against his. He was sweating bullets and swearing by my ear.
His skin was damp.
He smelled delicious.
I wanted him, thrusted into his movements. Our hip bones clapped. Or punch one another rather. With each now harder, more forceful thrust, I cussed.
I was holding my breath.
The cramping in my chest surrendered to a dull ache.
It would have to because this was fucking amazing.
I rode up my high into him, trying to get him deeper and deeper into me. I couldn't have enough! My body shook and started to roll, the sign I was going out in a blaze of glory. I moaned, felt his sticky, wet breath sink closer to my throat. He was breathing heavy through his teeth, little groans coming out.
He was a majesty.
He smelled like flesh.
I poured out over him in a fit of screams, so loud my voice broke, and with a powerful, wet release. He stiffened against me, pushing his pelvis into me to stream. My legs were aching. My sweat was boiling. Then, he relaxed and fell down onto me, and it was then I realized how tense my whole body was. My arms were tense, my back was stiff, my legs were hard as rocks. When he fell I fell, not really realizing how far I had raised against him, almost bending his spine backwards. Well, not quite, but we were up there.
I was loosening my muscles, and in the process feeling their shakes. He knew I tensed up at exciting situations. When we watch movies, especially at the theaters, I crush his fingers and don't even know I am. He doesn't usually say anything though. We watch action movies; we don't like chick flicks or baby movies. If it doesn't say bang bang shoot em up on the poster, we don't watch it. Simple as that.
We laid together, trying to recapture our breath. I massaged his back to help him ease up while he monitored his breathing. I felt his heartbeat in his head pulsate fiercely.
Well, both heads if I concentrated hard enough.
He leaned back and looked at me. His eyes were shined like polished diamonds, and his hair stuck to his forehead. I always liked that. Loved it really. Sweat was luxuriating. Sweat was tasty.
His juices were always the best.
He laughed at me. "What are you thinking about?"
"Me?" I asked.
"No, the pillow." He lightly flicked my nose. "Yes you. What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing really," I responded. "Just how you look when you're sweaty. How you feel. You're soaking."
"Not as wet as you though." He said.
I laughed. Gawsh, he was retarded.
But I loved him.
We prepared for the awkward part of pulling out. Not too much is ever really awkward to me, this wasn't really, it's just some of the sounds made. Stepping in very wet mud is what it can be described as; thick, soppy, and with a little resistance. Resistance was me. I didn't want him out. But he pulled, revealing my mess amongst his Mount Everest, and I mean
MESS.
"I can't even begin to describe it," I fell back, putting my palms over my eyes, then dragging them down.
"What?"
He was still pulling.
"My cum all over you like that. That's a lot of stuff."
"There's a lot of surface to cover." He said.
He wasn't lying.
"And besides," he kissed me. "I love it. Nice prize for all my work and your screaming."
He finally came out, and I got a sharp ache in my pelvic area. I always did when he was inside of me, and whether by my force or his or both, my legs would spread wider and wider, and he filled a very small space. It was like fitting a square peg through the circle slot. It does eventually fit, even if the square is A LOT bigger than the circle. Someone gets opened. I kind of curled to my side to wait for it to subside. I smelled lilacs. It was my hair. He was still leaned over me, necklace swinging in the air.
"I'm going to take a quick shower." He said, kissing my jaw. "You be prepared for round two when I'm done."
"Always ready," I said back, kissing his lips. His lip ring was hot from his breath warming with no escape against my skin while he fucked me. I wanted to bite it.
"Don't do anything fun while I'm in there." He said, grabbing his freshly cleaned towel off the dresser. I washed it this morning with my clothes. It was clean until I accidentally wiped my juices on it thinking it was mine during my Rob Zombie excursion the other day.
I should make him bite my nipple rings when he gets back.
Or flick where I throb the hardest.
Both is fine.
I heard the water run.
Get clean only to get dirty again.
My King.
