Page 78 of First in Line

This is surreal. The sensations themselves are so heightened, the entire experience feels uncanny, impossible. I’d think I’m dreaming or somewhere in a coma, making all this up, if it weren’t so incredibly detailed and perfect. It’s never this clear, this complete when I dream of her.

I could do this for hours. I want to, but I can already feel my climax nearing. It’s not entirely a problem, though, because I’m fairly certain I will stay hard even after I’ve emptied myself in her perfect cunt. But I’m not letting that happen before I’ve felt her clamp and pulse around me at least once.

Adamant to give myself a chance to get there, I slow my thrusts but give my hips a sway that has my base pressing onto her every time. She mewls my name below me, her fingers digging into my back, nails scraping my skin. I lift my upper body just enough to open a field of view to where we’re joined and look down.

“Look at us,” I grunt. “Look at how well you take me.”

With a moan, she follows my command and her gaze lowers between us. We watch for a moment as my glistening cock pumps in and out of her. This feels like home, like where I belong.

“I missed this,” I say, my voice rough and low. “I’ve missed you so fucking much, Evie, I—Fuck!”

“I missed you too,” she moans, adjusting her thigh higher on my side as the opposite arm clings to my neck.

Her free hand is wrapped around the railing of the stairs, and she uses her other leg to keep herself in place in this complicated configuration. I see no discomfort on her face, only pleasure, so I decide to keep going. It’s not like I’ll last long, anyway.

Her breasts jolt with every hard drive into her, the wet slap between us filling my ears. Any time I look down at the sight of my cock pumping in and out of her, I have a hard time accepting this isn’t a trick of my mind or my eyes deceiving me.

I’m inside Evangeline again. It’s happening. After so many years of thinking it never would. I can’t fucking believe it. The fact that we could have been doing this for the past seven years but didn’t pains me as much as it frustrates me. She stole this from us. Years of pleasure, years of losing ourselves in each other.

When her hand on my neck lowers to cup my ass and spur me on for more, that’s when I know she’s almost there.

“Are you gonna come for me, princess?” I rasp, picking up my pace as I lengthen the amplitude of my thrusts.

She nods with a strangled moan, eyes closed so she can focus on the pleasure.

“No, look at me,” I demand. She obeys instantly, allowing me to drown in the rich hues of her irises. “There. I want you looking at me when I make you come, Evie.”

I’m getting dangerously close, but she’s even closer. I’m considering lowering a hand between us to tease her clit when I feel the first signs of her incoming orgasm. The involuntary spasm makes me groan, and I maintain exactly the same cadence, the same angle, and the same depth. I know how this works, and I’m not messing it up by changing a fucking thing.

“Jax, I—Oh God, I’m—”

I keep ramming into her as she tilts, her nails digging into the tight muscles of my ass while her pussy strangles my cock. The spectacle of it, of her face distorted with pleasure, the maddening cries she lets out, are too much for me to resist.

Not after so long without a proper fuck. Not after years without her.

My own climax explodes, my balls drawing up tight as the first rope of cum shoots out of me, right into her spasming channel. My thrusts turn sloppy, the ramming of my hips into hers hectic and uneven. But it’s still enough to extend her orgasm. To keep her writhing and jolting under me.

Pleasure fucking blinds me with its intensity. I can’t remember the last time I came this hard. As my cum shoots into her over and over again, I’m not even sure I ever did before. Not even with her when we were younger.

I would have remembered something like this. An experience so indescribably profound that it feels as though someone opened the gates of heaven to me. I can feel it everywhere in my body, prickling under my skin all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

Lost in the midst of it, I realize I was right about sex with her being special. It wasn’t heightened memories or anything like that. In fact, this is even better than anything I remembered. Otherworldly. Something so incredibly transcendental that it shouldn’t even be accessible to us mortals.

Minutes after I’m done coming, I remain there, still inside her, trying to recuperate. We’re both sweaty, both panting, and I’ll venture, both very satisfied. There’s a pulse between us where we’re joined, like a heartbeat, and I can’t tell if it’s hers or mine.

Pushing myself onto my arms, I gaze down at her, reveling in the beauty of her face. She always seems so dazed right after an orgasm, expression veiled with bliss, eyes slightly unfocused asif she’s within herself, still exploring the pleasure that wrecked her.

My lips descend to softly press on her cheek, then on her temple, the delicate arch of her eyebrow, the space above her nose… I don’t leave an inch unattended, tenderly kissing every part I can think of. By the time I conclude my exploration by lingering on her lips, she’s back to being herself, and she returns it.

Then I pull away, leaning on a forearm while my other hand comes to graze the damp tendrils that cling to her temple.

Still a little breathless, she murmurs, “That’s one way to celebrate a divorce…”

The little laugh that follows has her squeezing around me, and it makes me realize I’m nowhere near softening. I can feel my pleasure mixed with hers ooze out from around my girth. I came what felt like a whole fucking bucket, but here I am, ready to go again already.

Only this fucking woman could do this to me.

I bend over to press my lips on the side of her neck, and when I give her a tentative thrust, she whimpers. “Jax, no.”