Chapter 9 #5
He slid his girth up her wet slit, coating himself in her first and teasing her sensitive clit even more before finally entering with ease.
He slid all the way inside until his balls touched her ass, and then he rested there for a minute.
That pussy was tight, warm, and soaked. She hummed around him.
Pussy would talk to a man if he were doing his job and hers was speaking in French.
He pulsated inside her. His dick was begging him for a little release.
Precum was oozing out of him as he rested inside her for a few seconds.
He was hitting a spot so tender that she reached down to grab his wrists.
“I ain’t gon’ take nothing you don’t want to give, baby.
I’m in the right spot. You give me how much you want me to have,” he coached.
She rolled her hips slowly, adjusting to his size and whimpering with every movement she made.
She was timid, and he knew it was because someone had hit her with sex that had hurt or caused discomfort before.
“Can I take care of you?” he asked. She knew what he was asking.
He wanted control over this night, over her body.
He was about to deliver some good dick, and he needed her to trust him.
He hit her with one slow stroke, and he felt her get wetter.
She nodded, and he continued. His body was incredible.
He used every muscle to control the pace and was careful not to weigh her down as he tensed into her depths.
Missionary with him wasn’t boring. It was the position for lovers.
She had never felt this connected with a man before.
He placed kisses of adulation all over her body as he stroked.
His favorite spot to kiss was her lips, but he gave every part of her a little time.
Her ears, her chin, the valley at the base of her neck that sank in every time she cried his name.
Each perfect brown nipple, her fingers that he made her dip into her juices so he could taste her more, and even her toes.
“That’s two,” he counted as he watched her cream on his dick. She was coating him, and Cassidy had to stop stroking and change positions to stop his nut.
He climbed on the couch, sitting on his knees.
“Turn around, baby. Sit on it,” he instructed.
She used the back of the couch to hold onto as she rode him in reverse.
Sloan was a fit woman. She did Pilates every morning to make sure she stayed in shape, and it showed in her stamina.
The way her ass moved as she rode him was a vision, and the stretch marks that covered it was art in human form.
“You riding it so good. You waited for me, didn’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she moaned. “God, Cass, yes.” Good dick would make a bitch say anything.
She had taken plenty of dick before him, but she loved a man who talked her through it, and Cassidy was playing into a fantasy that had been in both their minds for years.
This was the most passionate dick she had ever had, and he was the one she was pining for now, so he got the prize as the best. A woman always hyped a nigga dick game when she liked him, but surprisingly, Cassidy wasn’t coming to play.
She felt her orgasm building everywhere, and there wasn’t one reservation in her mind about submitting sexually to him.
Whatever he wanted to do, whatever he wanted her to try, no matter how deep or fast or hard he wanted to fuck, she would go there with him.
It felt that good. She never wanted this to end.
“Is it mine, Sloan?” he asked as he fell victim to the rhythm of her riding him.
The way his dick disappeared between her ass cheeks every time she bounced on it, he couldn’t contain himself.
He gripped her waist tighter as he matched her strokes.
Thick-ass dick made her legs shake. “Tell me it’s mine. ”
“It’s yours!” she whimpered.
“Can I put my name on it?” he asked. He had never even considered dropping off his last name inside a woman, but he knew he wasn’t pulling out. They would have to worry about the consequences in the morning.
Sloan couldn’t even answer; all she could do was cry out in pleasure as she came. “That’s three,” he counted. She was too tired to position herself, so he moved her entire body, facing her in the correct position to ride him from the front.
“My clit is so sensitive,” she whimpered as he eased his dick in and out of her.
She was spent. She couldn’t move, but she felt every inch of dick he pumped into her as he did the work for them both.
Thank God he was strong. He was fucking her back, lifting her hips, and annihilating her pussy.
Her clit was overstimulated. Mini orgasms shot through her body like aftershocks with every stroke.
In all her years, her pussy had never been beaten up.
Cassidy was going for the knockout. It was the most overindulgent, sensitive, gluttonous, erotic, nasty, pleasurable thing she had ever experienced with a man.
She felt his dick contracting as he released.
She hadn’t done shit in a whole thirteen minutes, and still, she felt like the champ for taking him down.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he finished, breathing hard.
“Oh fuckkk.” She loved a vocal man. She hated guessing if a man was enjoying her or not.
He fucked her slowly through his entire nut, and the pressure of his dick sliding against her clit milked her of one last orgasm.
Her clit was throbbing it was so aroused.
She convulsed even at the pressure of his body, and she felt another orgasm slide out of her effortlessly.
She was overstimulated at this point. A connoisseur for him.
She didn’t even tell him about that one because this was greed at this point.
She was done. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he sat there with the mess he had made in his lap.
He kissed her shoulder so gently, so proudly.
It felt like he was giving her a gold star.
She wanted to take that bitch to the playground and show it off to her homegirls. She had never been satisfied like this.
“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he admitted. “Thank you, baby.” She smiled, blushing at his level of comfort with her. She was baby now. Might as well change her whole name. This moment felt intimate in a way that was reserved for lovers.
She rested on his chest, and his hold was so tight that she wanted to stay there forever.
So much pent-up emotion filled her. It was overflowing, and she had an overwhelming urge to let it out.
Her heart pounded as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
He would have never known she was emotional if he didn’t feel them wet his chest.
“Why are you crying?” he asked as he stroked her hair softly.
“I’m just glad you’re home,” she whispered. “I never thought you would make it home. I didn’t even know you remembered that night.”
“I never forgot,” he answered. She craned her neck to look up into his eyes. He reached down under her armpits to pull her closer to his face. Her lips were his to try whenever he pleased. “If they ever take me away again, at least...”
He hadn’t realized how much his bid had affected her until he heard her sob at the notion.
He hadn’t even finished his sentence. He cleared her curly hair from her face, and he could see a storm of emotion in her.
There weren’t words he could say to erase whatever she had faced during the time he was gone, so he would have to show her.
He had lived with the weight of disappointing his father and being away from his sister and mother.
He had no idea there was one more person who had felt the consequences of his choices.
“Come here,” he whispered. He adjusted, getting comfortable on the couch, and she tucked herself under him and pulled the throw blanket over them.
“I don’t want to talk about that,” she cried.
“Okay,” he soothed. “We won’t.” He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back until she calmed. “I’m not going anywhere.” That seemed to reassure her, and he felt her breathing slow. They lay there in silence, overthinking.
“How we gon’ hide this from Ellie?” Sloan mumbled, half asleep.
“Shh… go to sleep,” Cassidy said. “Everybody and everything else don’t exist until tomorrow.”