A Night in a Year: 24. Thrust

“Well, you weren’t lying.” He pauses in his rubs, and kisses her again, all tongue, and gives her clit a final flick as he with draws both tongue and finger.
“Lean back a bit more.”

She obeys, and he lifts her other thigh. Her knee, almost on instinct, latches to his other hip, and her ankles lock behind him. That brings him closer, his hands now firm on the under side of her thighs, and now, the head of his cock is lilting on the lips of her cunt.

“Let’s see how long this takes…”

She starts in inhale, to prepare herself, but suddenly, he thrusts, and he fills her with his cock.
“Oh God!” she cries. The change was so sudden, it’s as if she is now made of his cock, so much of it is in her, like it is in her stomach, chest, all of her.

“Oh yes…” he whispers. “Oh yes you’re slick.”

Her toes would curl if not trapped by her heels. His cock stretches her, or she accommodates him, expanding to allow him inside her.

“Wow…”

“I know,” he says, and with practiced eased, holding her up and against the wall, begins to buck.
His cock rubs on the ridges inside her, the head of him and the length finding all the places that make her body tingle. He’s so large there is no way he could not. The angle is perfect. She clings to him, keeping herself from tumbling from him, but soon she trusts that he won’t let go, that it’s his cock itself keeping her to the wall. His balls bounce under her, hitting the curves of her arse, growing stickier the more she secretes.

And with each thrust, he hits her clit, and that is enough that she can’t not moan.

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Next: 25. Grind

Image found on flickr, by Elsie esq., used under the Creative Commons License.

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.