12. Mitchell’s Butte
MITCHELL’S BUTTE
MITCHELL
The more she touches me, the more that I am sure that she is everything I’ve ever needed, every wanted. The way she takes me, deep inside of her. I know she has no equal, no one who would accept me, take me as I am.
And with every cry from her mouth, every clench of her body I feel myself changing, forming, becoming whole.
I press forward, burying myself in her tight pressure. She is so close to her crest, I know that I need her to fall, to tumble down the slope of her pleasure.
It needs to come from me.
Even now, as she gets closer to her peak, I feel my body forming around the stalactite I use to fuck her.
I give her everything I have, all of me is hers. She deserves all the pleasure I am capable of, and more. I shift, and twist against her, following the hills and valleys of her cries. She clutches at my walls, stroking those long fingers across cracks and grooves that I never felt before.
I need to give her that same thing, give her love she’s never felt before.
Carefully I add a knob to my forming self, growing a curve on the side of the shaft as I press it into her.
Positioning it carefully to prod that bundle of nerves above her entrance, the place I know she is sensitive.
Where I watched her touch herself, the part of her that she ground against me on her climb here, that is the place she needs me most of all.
With a warming vibration, I tease her, just there.
Giving unrelenting assault on her senses until she has completely lost her words and can only encourage me with little thrusts of her hips and then she is falling.
Down, down, down, she breaks, gushing her sweet warmth all over me, and clawing at my walls with shaky, trembling hands that still beg for physical release.
But I can’t let her go just yet. Every time she cries my name I feel myself gaining more.
By giving herself to me she is giving me life itself.
Toes first, and legs and arms, and a face.
Until I am finally looking at her, with physical eyes.
Physical hands that grip her ass, hips that thrust forward, meeting hers, a mouth that only desires to call her name.