Page 87 of Stroked Hard
My balls seize up as I pump feverishly inside her, my orgasm hitting me like a fucking semi-truck, slamming me hard like I’m about to explode.
“Shiiiiiit,” I moan, my head resting on her shoulder. “Shit,” I repeat, catching my breath. I look up at Melony who must be mirroring the same look on her face as I am because we both chuckle.
“That was intense,” she admits, kissing me lightly on the lips. The innocent move jolts my heart against my chest, awakening me.
“It was,” I say on a whisper, repeating the kiss, this time adding a little tongue.
Pulling away, she kisses my jaw, “I seriously have a hard-on for your cock.”
An outburst of a laugh escapes me. “Well, fucking eat it up whenever you want, baby.” Still inside her I adjust, a slight tremor still running through my cock. She sighs with the movement. “Uh, just to be sure, you’re on birth control, right?”
Chuckling, she nods. “Yeah, you’re not tying me down that easily.”
“Nah, I have other plans of keeping you tied to me, and it doesn’t involve an accidental pregnancy, although, what a baby-daddy scandal that would be.”
“I would come after your gold medals,” she smiles devilishly.
“Take my medals but leave your tits. That’s my kind of deal, Hot Sex.”
“Don’t call me that,” she says sternly.
Not answering her, I laugh, pick her up off the counter and take her to the bathroom to clean up. Hot Sex isn’t going anywhere; Big Daddy won’t let her. *wink*
***
“So do you just climb stairs and dive in the water over and over again? Seems pretty awful.” I almost miss the question since I’m watching her mouth smoothly run over a fork of French toast. Those lips, they were only recently sucking on my cock, making me so goddamn out-of-my-mind crazy, now they are doing the same . . . but with a utensil. Fuck me. I have it bad. “Uh, Hollis . . .”
“Yeah,” I say lazily, still staring at her lips.
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“Stairs are fun,” I say, leaning forward, just needing a nibble.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I answer, leaning a little bit more forward. Just a few inches.
“Hollis, you’re coming at me with your tongue hanging out of your mouth and crazy in your eyes, so I repeat, what the hell are you doing?”
Tongue hanging out? Crazy in my eyes? Is that what I look like when I’m in lust? Shit, that’s unattractive.
Sitting up, I straighten myself and say, “Just wanted a kiss. Your lips are so damn perfect.”
“Well, looking like a drugged-out version of Shrek isn’t going to get you a kiss.”
Insulted, I push my hair back and say, “I did not look like Shrek.”
“I’m sorry, is my face a mirror?” She points to herself, a combative look on her face.
“No,” I say confused. What does a mirror have to do with anything? I pucker up and lean forward but she palms my face, stopping me in my pursuit.
“Didn’t think my face was a mirror, therefore you have no idea what you looked like. Believe me, you looked like Shrek.”
“He’s green. I’m blue,” I smile between her blocking fingers.
With a little push of my head, she sends me back to my chair. Stubborn woman “Blue? Why blue? You definitely don’t have blue balls.” She raises an eyebrow, reminding me of the little romp we just had in the kitchen.
“Baby, I will have blue balls every minute of every day I’m not deep inside that sexy cunt of yours.” I take a bite of my French toast as I watch her eyes turn sinful. “But that’s not why I’m blue.”
