35. Porter #3
“Fuck, yes,” I groan, his free hand gripping my hip almost painfully. He pounds into me harder, and I push back to meet his brutal thrusts while I take over, pulling my dick out through the side of my thong as I start stroking myself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
His other hand grabs onto my hip, and he’s not holding back. Each thrust is a punishment and a reward—it’s incredible. He’s fucking me good and hard, exactly like I’ve been craving. He’s close, so close I can feel it in the way he’s moving and the grunts leaving his throat.
“Oh, fuck,” Will shouts as he slides his hand down to the small of my back, angling my body slightly so he can go even deeper.
“Yesss, there!” I shout as his dick lights me up from the inside out. “I’m so fucking close.”
“Come for me,” he demands desperately. “Come right now, Porter. Scream for me. Let me hear you come on my cock.”
His command is the final straw as my orgasm rips through me. It’s violent. My whole body convulses with pleasure that steals my breath, and I think I actually black out for a second. I scream his name as my cock pulses, painting the sheets beneath me with my release.
He grunts and groans as he empties into the condom, collapsing on me so we’re a sweaty, breathless tangle of limbs. He presses a lingering kiss at the base of my neck, and I wish it were my mouth, my lips. “Don’t move,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”
The second he pulls out, I feel so empty.
I want him back inside of me. I turn to look at him as he rolls off the condom while I lie there in my ruined lace.
My muscles are jelly, my ass is deliciously sore, and my mind is blissfully blank.
That was perfect. The best orgasm I’ve ever had, so much so I don’t even have it in me to analyze any of the things he said during sex.
I’m fully aware we don’t have a future together, but that’ll go down in history as the best fuck.
I’m going to have to print Will out an award.
I’m sure that’d go right to his head, but he deserves it for the way he just teased me then delivered.
He comes back a moment later, and wraps his arms around me, pulling me up. It’s so gentle, such a stark contrast to the brutal way he just fucked me. Fuck, how is he so perfect?
“You okay?” he asks softly.
I can only manage a sleepy nod as he takes a moment to look at me while he leads me into the bathroom.
“Guess I’ll need to wash that again before the game, huh?” He laughs.
“I wouldn’t if I were you. Probably some good luck cum on there for your hundredth point, superstar.”
“You’re probably right.” Will chuckles as he helps me undress then follows me into the shower.
The hot water soothes my skin. He takes the bottle of my soap and pours some into his hands, lathering them up before he starts washing me.
His touch is slow and caring as his hands rub my arms, chest, and stomach.
He’s gentle when he gets to my ass, his fingers just skimming the sensitive skin to make sure all the lube is washed away.
Then he tilts my head back and washes my hair, his strong fingers massaging my scalp in a way that makes me melt against him.
It’s so intimate, so much more so than any of the times he’s cleaned me up before.
By the time he’s done, I’m half asleep on my feet, wanting him to hold me close. He turns the water off and grabs a fluffy towel, wrapping it around me while tying one around his waist.
“Wait here while I change the sheets,” he instructs, and I do. I watch while he strips the ruined, sweaty, cum-covered sheets from the bed and remakes it with fresh, clean ones.
He pulls back the comforter and pats the space beside him. “Come here, P.”
I crawl in, sinking into the cool, clean sheets. He gets in beside me, pulling me into his arms and tucking the blanket around us. I snuggle into his side, my head on his chest, my leg thrown over his. His hand comes up to stroke my hair, his fingers combing through the damp strands.
“How are you feeling now?” he asks, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet room.
I lift my head to look up at him, my cheek rubbing against his bare chest. This feels like dating, but in this moment, I’m not strong enough to fight it. “So good, unlike my very ruined thong.”
He laughs lightly before pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You were incredible,” he murmurs. “So good for me, and I promise I’ll buy you a new thong. You looked too damn good in that. I might have to buy you one in every color.”
“You should.” A happy, sleepy smile spreads across my face. “And you were okay.”
“Don’t be a brat,” he jokes, fingers tightening in my hair a smidge before releasing the strands.
He cuddles into me more and even though I know he’s not my boyfriend, and he never will be, in moments like this after we’ve already come and he wants to cuddle, I can’t get myself to say no like I probably should.
I’m already in too deep, but it’s harder to hold up my walls when he’s naked in my bed looking at me like I’m something special.
That’s when it hits me… we did all of this tonight, and neither one of us ever even muttered a dare.
Fuck.