11. Naz #3
I shout as he pulls my hips back sharply and lifts me up.
Without my arms to catch me, I end up with my face and shoulder braced against the ground while Scott holds me up like some kind of perverted wheelbarrow, one knee on the ground and the other braced for maximum impact.
It’s both uncomfortable and the best thing I’ve ever felt, the breath and cries jack-hammered out of me until my voice is hoarse.
He’s got me at an angle that has his cock driving into me so deep I think my pelvis might crack, rapidly hitting me dead in that spot that makes me think I’m going to pee, but have learned is the precursor to the most intense orgasms of my life.
The kind that makes you feel like you’re going to black out.
Shit. I might actually black out. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
“Scott…” I cry out, a warning tone in my gravelly voice between staccato moans and gasping for air.
“Come on, baby. Come for me.”
A litany of curses tumbles from my lips just before a scream is ripped from my throat.
Light flashes behind my eyes, and my entire body tightens up.
A deep, full-body surge of something I’ve never felt before pulses through me and keeps going long enough that I worry I’m running out of breath, but I can’t make my lungs function the way they’re supposed to.
A wave of dizziness overtakes me as what feels like a waterfall erupts inside me and explodes onto the rumpled picnic blanket.
All the while, Scott keeps pounding away, that same deep, rumbly growl emitting from his chest, broken only by the occasional grunted “yes” and the wet, squelchy slapping of our bodies coming together.
My raspy mewling rounds out the soundtrack to a porno filthier and more primal than anything I’ve ever watched.
His fingers dig into me so hard, I know I’ll have a few more bruises to add to the day’s collection. Not to mention being turned completely inside out and wrecked beyond comprehension.
But all I can feel right now is pleasure. Overwhelming, mind-altering, paralyzing pleasure.
For a few long minutes, I live outside my body.
If ever I was truly no one, it’s now. I’m really just a rag doll at this point, unsure which way is up or down, or if this is truly pleasure or pain.
It hurts, but in the best way possible. I’m limp and breathless, my body jerking with the motion of Scott thrusting into me like some kind of animal in a rut.
There’s a rush of warmth, the feeling in my arms coming back as Scott releases my hands from the binding.
He pulls out, only to flip me on my back and push back into me, gripping the backs of my thighs and pressing my knees almost to my ears.
The new position and the sudden rush of blood flow to my limbs intensifies my disorientation, making it harder to breathe.
I don’t even know what I’m feeling anymore.
My body is still pulsing, muscles clenching tight and forcing the air from my lungs in broken sobs.
Scott is still going, holding me in a new but no less targeted position, locked on that now oversensitive gland inside me.
There’s an incomprehensible and almost intolerable throbbing deep inside me, a burning flame kept blazing, constantly being stoked.
I’m spent, I know I am, my body is nothing but jelly, but my cock keeps spurting even though I don’t even know what could possibly be left inside me. I’m wet. Everything is wet. The blanket beneath me is soaked. Both of us are slick with sweat and covered in lube and cum and who knows what else.
“I need to come but I never want to stop fucking you like this. Fuck baby, I want to die inside you.”
I’m pretty sure I am actually dead, so I can work with that. He can die with me. Right here, right now. Drowning in something devastatingly, earth-shatteringly perfect.
My legs are released to wrap around Scott’s waist. His thrusts slow, morphing into a slow, rhythmic rock of his hips.
His body shakes violently as he moans out my name and more nonsense about living and dying, thrusting into me deep and slow as he fills me up one last time.
I swear I feel every pulse of it inside me.
His lips find mine, and he murmurs sweet words of praise against them. You’re perfect. You did so well for me. You’re so good. You’re so perfect for me. So perfect. I love you.
Every whispered word is so soft I can’t even be sure I’m really hearing it. I am delusional at this point. I can’t be sure any of this is real. For all I know, I’m still sleep-deprived and hallucinating.
I love you.
Maybe it was him, or maybe it was me, but one of us locks my arms and legs around him and pulls him down so all his weight is on me, pressing me into the earth, grounding me so I can’t float away.
Blood rushes through my head and body, this way and that, not in one direction like it’s supposed to.
My eyes sting and feel hot and wet, so I close them and focus on the feel of my heartbeat thrumming wildly against his.