Page 44 of Dirty Rotten Love

My lungs exhale in a happy sigh. This is nice. Snuggling is nice.

Is snuggling a hookup thing? Is it a gay thing? I have no idea. I’m pretty sure that Mac and I have already strayed far from any rules, and are making our own up.

I wonder if Mac hates that?

I tilt my head and look up at him. He doesn’t look as if he is hating anything. He does look tired, though. There are dark circles under his eyes.

Guilt twists through me. Days on the rig are long. The work is hard. Sleeping and resting are important, but we have been doing little of either. I’m still young enough to shrug it off, mostly, but Mac is paying a price.

Suddenly, I’m sliding up the bed. Mac is dragging me closer to him with apparent ease. His strength is impressive. Did he discern my thoughts about me tiring him out, and decided to prove me wrong? If so, it’s a very effective demonstration.

His lips close over mine and my brain just stops. All thoughts cease. Nothing but peace and Mac, and arousal renewing, stirring and thrumming through my veins.

I am kissing him back with enthusiasm. My hand drifts over his well-defined chest. My hand moves lower and finds his cock. My fingers curl, and I stroke him gently. He is mostly soft, but already filling just from our kiss.

That’s something to be proud of. It wasn’t long ago we finished round one, and here he is, already wanting me again. Despite his lack of sleep and his increased physical exertion.

Guilt swirls again. He may be strong and keen, but it really isn’t fair of me to let him do all the hard work.

With that thought in mind, I pull away from our kiss. I stare into his heated, dark eyes. I’m even more breathless now.

“Can I ride you?” I blurt out before I’ve thought it through, because, well, I am me and this is who I am.

The expression on Mac’s face is priceless, as well as extremely gratifying. He stares at me for a heartbeat, then he explodes into motion, scrambling for the half-empty box of condoms on the bedside cabinet.

I snort out a laugh, sit up, and snatch the condom from him. I grip the foil wrapper with my teeth and attempt to tear it off in a sexy manner.

It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe, how condoms, a thing exclusively for sex, can be so deeply unsexy.

However, I think I manage a fairly decent job of it. It’s either that or Mac’s wide eyes are him attempting not to laugh at me. But that’s fine, because honestly, making Mac laugh would be every bit as good as making him horny.

I attempt a sultry stare as I turn my attention to his cock, which is now fully hard and proudly standing to attention. It’s a sight that burns my sultry attempt away and leaves me grinning like an idiot.

Oh well, I am who I am. And sultry seducer, is not it. Mac seems to like me anyway, and that’s the only thing that matters.

Diligently and carefully, I roll the condom down Mac’s length. It doesn’t feel weird at all to touch a dick that’s not mine, and that is probably a fact that warrants some reflection, but right now I don’t care. I want Mac, in a carnal, biblical way, and that is that. It doesn’t need to be complicated.

Humming happily, I reach for the lube. Then I gently smear it all over Mac’s condom-covered cock.

That should do. He rearranged my guts a few minutes ago. I’m still all open and lubed. Ready to go. No waiting necessary. The absolute best way.

Grinning, I swing a leg over Mac and straddle him. He looks up at me and he looks damn fine like this. Lying on his back, tanned skin against the white sheets. All his muscles on proud display. This mountain of a man beneath me. My very own geographical feature.

Slowly, I start taking his cock. Sliding down his length, feeling him slip back inside me, filling the emptiness I have felt acutely since he pulled out ten minutes ago.

That’s better, so much better. Being stuffed with Mac’s cock is the best feeling in the world. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to go hours without it. It really isn’t fair.

Mac’s large hands rest on my hips. Not controlling, not guiding. Just there. Holding me reverently.

A gasp pours out of me as I sink lower. I’m fully seated and I can feel him deeper inside me than ever before. It’s amazing.

My body moves, taking control. Exulting in a dance I didn’t know I knew. And just like that, I’m riding Mac, and it is glorious. His cock is hard, hot, deep and mine. I rock down, pushing him deeper. I rise up, and the drag over my insides as he slides out is exquisite.

I ride and ride, and yell and yell. The rough weather is taking my cries far away. I’m a part of nature, a wild, free thing. A gale is raging and Mac and I are fucking and it feels so right. This, this is living. This is how things are meant to be. This is everything that has been missing.

This is Mac.

My thighs are beginning to hurt. But I can cope. Though I have never been more glad that I have a physical job. That said, I have newfound inspiration to hit the gym. Every day. Lots of squats. So many squats. I need to be able to do this for hours.