“Pardon?”
I pet his dick, hoping to erase the dark look on his face. He seems pissed at the suggestion he might need that kind of assistance. Honestly, who gets hard three minutes after having sex? Isn’t that a myth? In my limited sexual experience, which is rooted in the upper-middle section of the single digits, I’ve never had more than one round of fill-the-beaver-hole in a night.
“N-nothing.” I wrap my fingers around his growing erection. My middle finger and thumb touch, so I give it a gentle squeeze followed by a slow stroke. The skin is looser, and it’s fun to slide around.
“What exactly are you trying to do?” His voice is hot and sweet and hard; a Werther’s Original sitting on a radiator.
“Distracting you by exploring the myth of the immediate post-sex almost-hard-on you seem to be experiencing? Despite the potential ill effects of having a double-XL in an extra-small space more than once, I don’t seem to be able to stop helping it along.” I give it another stroke to prove my lack of self-restraint.
“The myth of—wait, ill effects?” He places a hand on mine, his expression one of concern.
I squeeze his junk while I try to come up with an inoffensive explanation. “Well, you’re mammoth, so it goes without saying I’ll be sore. Not in a bad way. More in a ridden hard and satisfied way.” I don’t think I’m making this better. I bet if I put that dick of his in my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to talk at all.
“I see. Are you off limits now?”
“‘Off limits’? No. Definitely not.”
“That’s good to hear. If you keep doing that”—he drags our palms down his shaft—“I’m going to be rock solid in about two minutes.”
“You’re pretty solid already.”
Fortunately, or not so fortunately, depending on the projected state of my parts below the waist, we’re interrupted by a knock at the door. Alex swears under his breath. He plants an open-mouthed kiss on the side of my neck, following with teeth. “That’ll be room service with your key. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Seeing as I’m naked and you’ll be blocking the only exit with your godlike body, I don’t think I’ll be attempting an escape.”
“‘Godlike body,’ eh?” Alex flashes me his one-dimpled grin.
I roll my eyes. “Like you don’t already know it.”
He smacks my bare ass. “You’re cute.” He nabs his boxers from the floor and tugs them up his legs. There’s no hiding his semi. He reaches inside and does some rearranging as he saunters out of the room. I stare after him, rubbing my ass.
With Alex no longer presenting a sensory distraction, I become self-conscious of my nakedness. My Spidey pants help conceal the bottom half, sadly, my top is in the other room with my glasses and my phone.
I check the bathroom for a robe and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. It looks as if woodland creatures have taken refuge in my hair. I use my fingers to smooth it into some semblance of order. It doesn’t work, so I pick up the brush from the vanity and drag it through the tangled mass. It hurts, but helps.
I open the door to find Alex standing on the other side. I do the whole gasping hand-to-heart deal, as if it’s going to burst out of my chest. His eyes drop from my face. I’m palming my tit.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says to my boobs.
I separate my fingers so my nipple peeks out between them. Alex moves closer, running a single finger between my breasts and down my stomach to circle my navel. “You put your pants on.”
“You’re wearing boxers.”
“This is true.” Dipping lower, his fingers sweep over my befuddled beaver.
“I was making it even.”
“I could fix that. If it’s a problem for you.” His smile is all mischief. “If you’re still staying, that is.”
“I’m still staying.”
“This is good news.”
Plush, warm lips are on my neck again. He sifts his fingers through my hair and tugs gently, tilting my head back. “Is it okay that I want you again?”
“Perfectly okay.” I look toward the rumpled sheets. “Bed?”
“Bed.”
“I’m sending you the repair bill if you break my beaver.”
Alex bites my shoulder. “Beavers are ugly. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever put my mouth on.”
It’s a dirty thing to say, and considering how many pussies Alex has likely been up close and personal with, it’s a significant, moderately backhanded compliment.
Of course to prove it, Alex carries me to the bed and strips off my pants. He drops to his knees on the floor, puts his face between my thighs, and makes fireworks happen with his awesome mouth. Again.
I’m not sure of the exact orgasm tally, but by the time he comes up for air, I’m loose-limbed and one word demands are all I can manage. “Naked.”
He drops his boxers freeing the monster cock. It smacks him in the stomach with a loud thwack. I stifle a giggle and pat it, checking to make sure it’s okay. Alex’s expression is a mixture of amusement and desire as he joins me on the bed, reclining against the mess of pillows.
There’s nothing between us now, just hot skin and wet need. Shimmying back, I slide my hands up his thighs. I have a plan. It might cause lasting damage to my jaw, but he’s gone south on me twice, and it’s only polite to respond in kind. Plus, I’m curious to see how much will fit.