Friday Nights with Lenny

He fucked me standing next to the bed, me lying on the bed below him. It was all him. I wanted him to know that it was all him. He was standing, facing and hunched over the side of the bed, his hands gripping me on each side where my buttocks curved down into the small of my back.

My weight was on my shoulder blades on the surface of the bed and my arms extended out on the surface of the bed, my fists clutching at the bedspread, bunching it up and releasing it in the rhythm of his pumping. My cheek was against the scratchiness of the chenille bedspread, and I was crying out how big and stretching he was and how much I was loving his dicking. And I wasn’t lying.

My legs were wrapped around the small of his back and he was pulling and pushing my channel on his cock with the strength of his hands.

Afterward we lay stretched against each other, me on my side inside the embrace of one of his arms. I traced his solid, big-boned nakedness with the tips of my fingers, moving up to his face and his lips. My own lips replaced the fingers and we engaged in what probably was the first long, lingering kiss we’d had. I could feel him shuddering and a sob escaped him from around my lips. I moved a hand down his torso and buried my fingers in his pubes and rubbed and pulled lightly on his thick, curly hair down there. I could feel that he was reengorging. He started to turn over me, to cover my body and then remount me. But I gently pushed him back onto his back.

“Shhh, be still,” I whispered. “There’s plenty of time for that. You need to sleep now. I’ll take care of you and then you sleep.”