Delivery

He twisted my body to the side and came with me, his knees sliding under my buttocks. Then, still wildly kissing my lips and my face and down to my nipples, he fucked me furiously, with much passionate noise registering need and pleasure from both of us. I certainly learned now that he could use salty profanity as well as anyone could.

The passion ended with nearly simultaneous fireworks from both of us.

He rose from me then and padded off to the bathroom, while I stretched out on the bed. I have no idea how long the uninhibited, honest part of the fuck had lasted, but, for now, it was enough. He had dropped the pretenses and façade—not for long, but long enough for both of us to know he would.

When he returned from the bathroom, he crawled under the covers of the other bed in the room without uttering a word.

I was disappointed, but it wasn’t a disappointment that lasted for long. Twice more in the night, his body came down on mine in the twin bed, and he fucked me fully and passionately, holding me in his tight embrace, kissing me all over my body, muttering how hard and glorious my body was, sliding that long, hard cock in and out of me, coaxing out shared ejaculations. Showing each time that he wanted me, couldn’t get enough of me, couldn’t—in the dark and just between the two of us—voice enough approval of me and my openness to his need.