LANA
This man is my own personal brand of fucking aphrodisiac.
His compliments are unlike any I’ve received before.
None of those sounded genuine, but whenever Bates tells me I’m beautiful and wonderful, the words ring true, as if he actually believes them.
He utters a word of praise, and I seriously consider ripping off the condom so I can receive all the ingredients I’ll need to bake a little version of him over the next nine months.
I’ve known him for about five hours, and I think I’ve fallen in love with him — which is very efficient of me, but not exactly acceptable behavior for a one-night stand. I should ease back.
I should.
But Bates doesn’t let me. He shoves his massive cock deep, hits the joy-button right on the head, and rumbles at me all soft and tender while still sounding like an authority on the matter.
“A perfect fucking dream.”
He unravels me… one fiber at a time, and then all at once until my body is shaking with the pleasure of being adored.
This grown man looks me dead in the eyes and shows me what he thinks of me. He wields his big, perfect cock like a stamp of approval, branding my insides as valuable and desired until I’m crying out and coming so hard he can hardly fuck me through my pussy’s fierce grasp.
Bates thrusts his cock deeply with a strong, sure finality, and I watch the satisfaction in his gaze as he spills his own pleasure into me.
It feels as if we’re pulsing together like one creature.
One ecstatic, quivering, overwhelmed creature, who can’t stop its electrified skin from thrumming nor its swirling insides from dancing through the uncontrollable waves of an orgasmic explosion.
“A dream I wish would never end,” he whispers as if it’s a secret he shouldn’t have shared.
All I can do is gaze up at him in wonder. My body is living its best life beneath him, trembling inside and out with sensitive nerves that only seem to feel pleasure.
Bates sweeps his fingers over my hair in a tender gesture.
He’s watching me as if I’m his new favorite show and he can’t miss a second of it.
His smile is ever-present, and it grows each time I fall prey to another internal quiver.
He shifts gently inside me, coaxing them from me until they dissipate completely, then he just holds me where I am and keeps stroking my hair while he stares down at me in a way that I’m sure I’m not meant to read as much into as I am.
I’m pretty sure I’ve been bitten by an insatiable little lovebug, and I want that look to mean he’s suffering from the same affliction.
I want that so desperately that I’m not going to let myself speak for fear of blurting it out and ruining the best night of my life.
Oh, fuck.
My eyes are getting all hot, and I can feel a mist building.
If I cry when his cock is still inside me, I’m going to die. I’ll kick my own ass to death. It should be illegal to cry when you’re experiencing a fucking miracle.
“You okay?” he whispers, his eyes searching mine in concern.
I nod.
Perfectly wonderful. Thank you. For everything.
He doesn’t look entirely convinced, but a glance at the clock on the bedside spurs him into action.
He swears under his breath and looks at me longingly — as if he’d rather fuck me several more times before the night is over.
It’s a look that I’ll appreciate until the end of time, and I’d like to thank him out loud, but I think my throat has been sealed shut by the choking grip of emotion.
Bates kisses my forehead and eases himself out of me. He deals with the condom en route to the bathroom, and I hear the water turn on. He returns, lifts me effortlessly into his arms, and heads back to the shower.
Before tonight, I have to admit that despite some intensive research on the matter; I had no real understanding of what could happen between a man and a woman when they’re being intimate with each other.
I hadn’t dreamed that orgasms could become more powerful when you add a second person, though I suppose it makes a lot of sense in a combined, accumulative energy kind of way.
I also didn’t know how tender genitals could get after exuberant sexual activity, and I never expected to be soaped up and rinsed down by the man who tenderized me.
Even though Bates is gentle with me, I’m incredibly sensitive to his touch. I swear a little when his fingers pass over some places. I don’t feel sore, exactly. Just well-used. And I don’t mind having a physical reminder of what we did together. I kind of like it.
Bates seems less enthused. He watches me with great intensity and constantly adjusts the pressure of his touch to lessen any discomfort I might feel.
It’s sweet, but I don’t like the upset expression that appears on his face when his fingertips pass over an achy part of me.
He pulls his hand away, but I reach for it and bring his fingers back between my legs.
His eyes search mine, and after a moment, he continues to gently cleanse me under the spraying water.
I relax into his arms again, but before long, I snap my legs shut with a gasp.
The initial shock passes, and I bite my lip and spread my legs again so he can continue, but Bates looks so ashamed of himself that I rush to find my voice.
“Bates, can you please not look at me as if you regret anything we did? It felt good while we were doing it,” I assure him.
“It doesn’t even feel bad now, exactly. I’m all warm inside, and I actually feel as if I’ve been used for what I was made for and stuff.
It’s not bad. It’s a new feeling, being this sensitive down there, but I mostly like it. ”
He studies my face and then nods. “Still. I shouldn’t have gotten so carried away.
I… I’m wondering if I subconsciously wanted to make sure you’d feel where I’ve been for longer than this one night.
That’d be bad, so I hope it’s not the case, but part of me definitely doesn’t want you to forget about me too quickly, and that’s… ”
“If I say that’s really fucking hot, will you judge me?” I ask in a whisper.
He looks taken aback, and I stroke his chest. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve had a very unforgettable evening with you, and I hope the feelings you’ve left inside me are slow to fade too.”
Bates rumbles softly and pulls me to his lips for a needy kiss that makes my wobbly legs even more unstable.
He presses his forehead to mine when he finally pauses for breath.
“Lana… I… I’m glad you have a name, because there are so many wonderful things I want to say about you I get tongue-tied.” The color rises in his face. “Lana sums them all up real nice, though.” He kisses me again — which is good, because I don’t know how to respond to someone being so nice to me.
His enormous arms come around me as the shower rains over us, then he turns off the water and dries me before tending to himself.
It’s weirdly like being a child, except I get a lot of soft little kisses in some pretty adult places, so it’s definitely not like that, but there is a strangely nurturing vibe to these bathroom activities.
I like it. I can’t actually remember the last time someone toweled me off after bathing.
I’ve been an independent, fully functioning efficiency expert since I was little, so I was largely left to my own devices earlier than most kids would have been.
Bates squirts some of the hotel-labeled body lotion onto his palm, rubs his hands together, and then applies the moisturizer to my legs in long, luxurious strokes.
His fingers knead my muscles like dough, and once he’s done my legs, he gives the rest of my body the same treatment.
It’s satisfying and wonderful, and so unexpected that I’m finding it hard to wrap my head around the concept that anyone — let alone a grown, handsome man — might want to care for my body this way.
“Is the guy meant to do all of this after sex?”
“Depends.” Bates gives me a half-shrug and keeps rolling his thumbs over a knot in my shoulder.
“If you like it, then heck yeah, he should do it. Your man should take care of you any way you need him to. You’re doing him a favor by letting him touch you, in case you didn’t know that — especially when he’s having a hard time keeping his hands off you.
For me, this is a nice way to ease the withdrawal whiplash that occurs between being inside you and then having to give you up when you leave,” he admits with a slight blush to his cheeks.
“I’ll dress you too, if you want,” he says with a sly grin.
“Anything that’ll make this last longer. ”
I glance at my clothes. “I might need fresh underwear after what you made me do to the other ones. My room is only down the hall. You can come and dress me there if you want to?”
Bates nods once and pulls on gray sweatpants. Nothing else.
“I wear more clothes than you,” I say with a smile. “Think you’ll cope?”
Bates shrugs. “If I have to. It’s probably best to cover you up before I try to seduce you again.”
I shiver, and Bates grins as he reaches for his key card. “Do I get to choose your outfit?” he asks.
I glance at the time. “Can you do it in under two minutes?”
His grin broadens. “I can, but you should know that I’ll be wanting it to last for at least sixteen.”
When I walk out of the hotel, I do it in my favorite dress and feeling like a million dollars.
Bates said he thinks it might be his favorite dress too, and as he loads my gear into the taxi, I don’t want to believe that I’ll never see him again.
I step in close and wrap my arms around his colossal frame in the deepest, realest-feeling hug I’ve ever given anybody.