22. Nick #2
“Hey,” Hank whispers above me.
And there he is, his big, cuddly body hovering over me, protecting me, cradling me. His hairy stomach brushes against my dick. His warm, thick thighs press against mine. His hands sweep under my back, pulling me up to him, until barely any daylight exists between our bodies.
“How are you?” he asks, his voice low.
“Good. Really good.”
His head dips down and gives me the gentlest kiss that he’s bestowed today. There’s no urgency, only contentment. I dig my hands into his back as he fucks me, his bearish body damp with sweat. I lift my hips to give him a clearer angle. He slides in deeper.
“God, Hank…” Pain continues to linger, but it’s far outweighed by the sheer bliss of his body on top of mine.
“You feel so good, Nick,” he says in between more gentle kisses. He grunts with strained breath as he humps me harder, the beast slowly emerging from behind the teddy bear. “My beautiful Nick.”
I think I prefer that title to crown prince.
Hank slows down his rhythm. The heat in my core only continues to build.
“You can go faster,” I say.
“Um, okay.” He cracks a gleeful smile. “You sure?”
“Yeah.” I bite my lip in anticipation. Even though I can’t see what’s going on down there, I’m so turned on knowing that Hank’s cock is plunging inside me, stretching me, owning me.
Hank picks up the pace, his thighs slapping against mine as he properly rails the daylights out of me. The man may come off as the sweetest cutie-pie in the world, but he knows how to fuck. He buries his face in the crook of my neck as he thrusts deep in my hole, my legs flailing above us.
I am desperate to touch myself. I finagle a hand between our stomachs. My cock is rock hard and sensitive. Hank looks down and gets the hint. He hoists himself up as if doing a plank right above me, so I have room to jerk myself off. His shaggy hair falls in his eyes.
I stroke myself fast and hard, like I’m a teenager in my bedroom gripped in the fever dream of newfound horniness.
Jerking off while a dick is inside me is like pouring gasoline on a bustling forest fire.
Every cell in my body is ignited with lust. My orgasm spares no part of me.
My whole body clenches tight with impending explosion.
“Shit.” Hank flops down of me.
“Did you…”
“No. My shoulders were tensing up. Sorry. I just need a minute.” He reaches behind himself and massages one of the shoulders in question. “I had a rotator cuff injury some years ago, so it gets a little…”
“Actually, can we try a new position?” I feel so forward asking this. As if I studied some lovemaking book and am ready to be a sex pretzel. “You lie down and I’m on top of you.”
I was scrolling through Millie’s social media one day and somehow found myself looking at videos where women show off hot videos of their husband and brag about getting to “bounce on it.” And well, like so many internet memes, the phrase has gotten lodged in my brain.
I want to bounce on it. I want to bounce on it so bad.
“I get to lie down and have sex with you? Let’s do it.” Hank sprawls on the bed. I straddle his wide body and rake my eyes over his full stomach and bountiful chest. I re-lube him and myself and sink onto his pole.
My dick remains hard as steel.
And then I bounce. It takes mere seconds to get back to the impending, all-consuming orgasm flooding my body.
I clench and tighten. All my limbs turn to jelly as I bounce on Hank’s thick cock.
I press my hands onto his chest to steady myself.
He watches me with lust ablaze in his eyes.
His rough hands caress my hips, give my ass a slap.
“Hank. Oh my God. Fuck,” I say with my accent. My brain has lost the ability to use my American voice. The orgasm expands and expands in my core, a tidal wave crashing through everything in its path.
“Fuck, I’m so close, Nick. I’m so close.” He spreads a hand up my stomach and over my chest, tweaking one of my nipples. “Are you close?”
Boom.
Every part of me explodes, my body a grand fireworks finale.
“Shit!” he gasps out.
My vision goes in and out, but for a split-second, I make out Hank shielding his face from something.
When I come to after experiencing the most intense climax of my life, I realize that he was protecting himself from my turbocharged cumshot.
His stomach, chest, forearms, and chin are covered in…me.
Somehow, I find the strength not to collapse onto him and worsen this mess.
“Whoa. That was…hot.” He sounds a tad confused about whether that was the right adjective. “So fucking hot.”
He clamps his calloused hands on my hips and jackhammers me, pushing out the last drops of my orgasm. I’m so blissed out that I barely clock him coming into his condom a few seconds later.
When I finally emerge from my sex coma and get off Hank, I see the ropes of white I sprayed across him.
“Sorry I didn’t give you warning. I was…” I blush and continue to catch my breath.
“I get it. It was hot. It reminded me of sitting in the front row at Blue Man Group where they make you wear a poncho.”
I lie back on the bed and smile.
“Now I know how my old tube socks feel,” he says, sending us both into hysterical laughter. Hank turns to me, his face flush with vibrant color. He finds my hand and interlocks our fingers. “Nick from Baltimore.”
Nick from Baltimore.
I keep a smile on my face as my heart sinks from this high. I’ve never felt closer to anyone, and yet there’s still a secret keeping us kilometers apart.