Paris Nights

Paris Nights (continued)

The singe only lasts a moment before he tosses his underwear to the floor where they land on top of my panties. Just the sight of his underwear on my panties is erotic and I feel a slow tightening between my legs. His gaze is lazy as he drags it from the garments on the floor to my face. He reaches a shaking hand up to my face and brushes away a lock of my hair.

He leans his forehead down to rest on mine, his hand floats down my side and rests on the cheek of my ass. He tenderly nuzzles his nose on the tip of my nose. Soft warmth eases down my face and neck, down my spine, and radiates over my whole being. The calm before the storm.

I wrap my arms around his naked waist and lower my head onto his chest. His chest hair tickles my nose, my lips. I listen to his quickened heartbeat, his labored breathing. He can't last much longer. He eases me to the floor to lie on my back. His head turns quickly to the sofa, searching. He snatches a pillow from the sofa, lifts my head and slides the pillow under it. He always makes sure I'm comfortable first.

He throws his leg around my body, straddling me. I look up at him--the chemistry so intense you can feel it crackling between his chest and mine. I stroke his breastbone; he gasps. He slides his hand between my thighs and parts my legs.

He admires my sex a moment, "You're beautiful. So wet for me." he mutters.

I watch as he positions his hips over mine. He nudges the crown of his erection against my opening and the lovely pressure makes me moans deeply. He closes his eyes as if absorbing my moan. I watch his ab muscles quiver, and I know he's trying to control himself.

I wrap my arms around his neck and bring his ear down to my lips, "Don't hold back, take me now. Take what you need. Feel the pleasure." I tempt him with a whisper.

That's all he needed to hear. He plunges his rock hard dick into my core, we gasp in unison at the sudden rush of sexual gratification. He circles his hips round and round, his dick repeating the action deep in my vagina.

I feel everyone of his movement, bucking my hips against him, crying out. I dig my nails into his back as his circling hips make me climax high and strong. As my climax starts to end, he begins thrust quicker and quicker until he's wildly fucking my core. His breath is ragged, his moans turn into shouts of deep guttural pleasure.

After several deep, penetrating fucks I watch him throw his head back and shutter, crying out as his spills his seed over and over inside me. I feel the jets of his hot ejaculation fill me completely, his body racked with quaking shivers. His orgasm is so hard I almost feel sorry for him as he loses control of his body in shaking screams.

He finishes, his arms giving out. He lands on me, but makes sure I don't take all the weight of his exhausted body. I lay his head on my breast, stroking his hair, trying to quell his trembles. He's spent. I feel one tear fall from his eye to my breast. I kiss the top of his head, the waves of his hair moist with sweat.

After a few moments he kisses the side of my neck and rolls off me to the floor. His arm, still heavy with sexual exhaustion, reaches up and pulls a soft chenille throw blanket off the sofa. With his other arm he reaches to me, pulling me close to him. I lay my head on his damp chest, his sex scent still lingers. He casts the blanket out like a net and it floats softly down onto our naked bodies.

We lay there together in an aura of afterglow and affection and listen to the rain falling outside in the Paris night.