I giggle—I can’t help it—but Remy, he gets down to work. Adjusting me up and off, he strips off his boxer briefs, rolls me to my back to pull off my panties, and then lifts me back on top, all in under ten seconds.
I’m breathing heavily, and I didn’t even do anything.
Remy slides on a condom. Where it came from, I don’t know. But as much as I’d love to feel him directly against me, it’s necessary. I’m in no way prepared to have unprotected sex, no matter how good I know it’d feel. I appreciate him doing the legwork to make sure we’re covered.
I shift my knees in the bed and lift myself taller, taking hold of his cock with my hand and guiding it inside myself. Remy laughs the kind of sexy laugh that could make me come on the spot. Head back, eyes half closed, his perfect teeth biting deliciously into his lip.
He’s so sexy, I can hardly believe it.
“Ri, that might be the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life. If you didn’t feel so good around me, I’d make you take my cock back out just so you could put it in again.”
I blush a little, but mostly, I just feel empowered. If grabbing him and putting him inside me is that much of a turn-on for him, I’m excited about what else I might be able to do.
Lifting up quickly and then sliding down slowly, I take him by surprise. His eyes widen, and his pupils dilate to fill the extra space.
“God, Ria. Fuck.”
The sound of him coming unraveled might be the most invigorating thing I’ve ever experienced. His praise is like a drug, drawing me to chase another hit like an addict.
I lift up again and spread my thighs wider so I can accommodate all of him inside me as I move up and down his length three more times.
He groans, his eyes roll back, and I feel another high.
Up and down, I lift my hips, squeezing my Kegel muscles with each stroke until he’s breathing so heavily, I can hear each and every intake of air.
I lean down more, my breasts brushing across his face with each stroke of his cock, and he licks and nips at them gently.
He practically growls as he grips my ass and pushes himself even deeper. The stretch I feel is so deliciously intense that I’m panting and desperate to keep matching him stroke for stroke, to keep pushing his cock as deep inside me as it can go.
Remy has taken over all of my senses now, and the only thing I’m missing is the feel of his tongue on mine.
On pure, raw need, I lean forward until we’re chest-to-chest and press my mouth to his. We’re totally connected in every way, and our kisses become greedy, breathy movements between moans.
“Fuck, Ria. It’s so fucking good. It’s always so fucking good.”
A moan bubbles up from my lungs as he continues to drive into me, each thrust of his big cock guiding me closer and closer to the edge.
Remy is loud now, but so am I, my lips knocking against his as I push myself onto him with force. Down, down, down, I bounce, gasping at the end of every stroke.
I’m practically wailing, I’m so overcome, but Remy is too, his hands clutching at the sides of my head and holding my mouth to his own.
We kiss and taste and lick and nip, and just when I think I’m going to die from the excruciating pace, I fall over the cliff of pleasure, landing in a pool of utter satisfaction when Remy tumbles right with me.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans directly into my mouth, his hand clenching at the back of my head so hard it flirts the line of pain.
And yet, it feels good. So, so good.
It’s dangerous and daring, just like everything I know I’m risking by taking this chance with Remy.
I just have to hope I can stay on the pleasure side of the line—enjoy the fun, the companionship, the help, the laughs, and the sex without letting myself do something stupid like falling completely head over heels in love and subjecting myself to the possibility of a world of hurt.
I stare into Remy’s blue eyes as they study me. A soft, gratified smile plays at his lips, and the instant contentment I feel makes me bury my face into his chest on a whisper of a sigh and nearly pass out.
Good luck resisting the L-word, Ria. You might already be too late.
Twenty-Six and a Half Years Ago…
Sophomore year, Friday afternoon in December
Maria
I am officially a free woman.
Well, free from midterms, that is. As of thirty minutes ago, I turned in my last exam to Mr. Parton, my chemistry teacher. Thank everything!
The excitement of Christmas break sits before me as I step off the subway. My house is only a short block away, but the chilly December air warrants me to button up my navy-blue pea coat as I walk up the steps that lead to the sidewalk.