Page 94 of Alonzo

Someone who holds on tight and never lets go.

He begins to lift me up, helping me fuck him. Higher and higher he raises my hips until the tip of his long cock almost falls out. But then, just before that happens, he slams me back down, my ass cheeks smacking his bare thighs, over and over again. I moan and lean in to kiss him with an open mouth. Our tongues eager for each other now as we fuck harder, and faster, and with more and more urgency until we are nothing but hard breathing, and racing hearts, and panting moans.

He grabs my hair and pulls it, forcing my head backwards so he can nip at the sensitive skin along my collar bone. I dig my nails into the hard, round muscles of his shoulders, dragging them down his arm as I bounce my tits in his face.

It’s a hard fuck, but the sentiments between us are soft.

And then I feel the climax within me. Crawling and weaving its way through a maze of passion, and lust, and emotion, and longing, and every other thing I’ve never had before, but seem to have found now…

And then it’s out.

This time, when I come, it doesn’t originate from my clit, or my pussy, or the tingling of my tits.

Alonzo Dumas fucks me for the first time today and I can tell the difference.

Because this time my climax comes from my soul.

He moans. “You sexy little fucking siren. Squeeze my cock with your pussy, sunshine.”

And then I do something I’ve never done before. I come again.

Another level of pleasure—heightened this time—washes over me. Not in a wave, but a fucking tsunami.

I open my mouth and a primal scream escapes.

One I’ve only heard in my own sexual fantasies.

It’s a song, I realize.

His song.

The one I will use to call him home from this day forward.

And it works immediately. Like magic. Because I feel his cock pulse inside me. Spilling his hot, creamy semen. I keep fucking him for a few moments, just long enough to make that white, milky come mix with my own release. And then I raise my hips up. High enough so that his cock slips out.

I look Alonzo Dumas in the eyes as I scramble off his lap and get to my knees between his legs.

He opens his mouth when he realizes what I’m going to do.

Maybe to tell me to stop?

Or maybe not.

Because he grips my hair with both hands, guides my face to the tip of his head, and slips his cock right down my throat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - ALONZO

I dream about her.

All night, a thousand different ways, an eternity of lifetimes happen inside my wild mind while Tara sleeps snuggled up to my chest in my bed.

I’ve fucked her hundreds of times in dozens of ways before we ever met in person. Every single time it was dirty. There was talk of cock and pussy. Tits and ass. We did it standing up, sitting down, in public, in private, in the shower, at home, in a car… every way you can fantasize about fucking someone was dreamt up and played out over more than two thousand miles.

But last night was something altogether different.

Dirty, yes. But still very sweet.

I want nothing more than to stay in bed with her today. Close the blinds, shut the doors, and forget that there’s a whole world outside.