Bear #3
Erin presses her hands against my chest, the tips of her fingers folding over each shoulder. I reach down between us just long enough to position me where she needs me, for the tip of me to glide into the shallow entrance of her.
We both stiffen and steel a breath at the feeling, the most sensitive part of me stretching her open just a centimeter, but enough that we both tremble and quake.
And then she sinks, just a half an inch, and we both moan in sync.
My hands wrap around her hips even more, encompassing her entire waist, and I hold onto her for dear life as she stretches a little more, letting me a little more inside her.
Stars. In my room and my head and swimming in every vein of my body is a galaxy of stars.
My cock pulses inside her, and she slips down a little more before she’s grimacing and squeezing my shoulders tight.
“Are you okay?”
She nods, letting out a slow breath. “It hurts a little,” she confesses. And then her sass makes an appearance, her brow popping into her hairline as she adds, “I’ve never had anyone this big before.”
I can’t help the cocky smirk that blooms on my face at that.
“You technically already had it once before,” I remind her. “Remember? Oh, wait…”
She pinches my rib, and then we’re both laughing, and kissing, and all the tension floats away on a nonexistent breeze.
Erin pushes up on her knees just a bit before she drops back down, sinking a little farther, another grimace warping her face.
“Go slow,” I tell her, and I hold her hips to help, guiding her down so slowly I’m afraid by the time she sits all the way, I’m going to come twice over.
She’s so fucking tight, so wet and slick and mine.
Slowly, Erin starts to take over again, picking up her pace. Up and down, sliding off my length just to sit back down and take more of me inside her.
Up, down, up, down.
A pant, a moan, a kiss, a sigh.
And then she sinks all the way, opening wide and gobbling me up so that I’m balls deep inside her.
We both still again at the sensation, holding onto each other with slick chests and shaking limbs.
It’s like coming home after thinking we were dead, like finding the part of ourselves we never knew existed and yet always sensed was right under the surface.
Now it’s my turn to take control.
I grip her hips tight, lifting her all the way up before gliding her back down, and we both moan again, louder, more urgent, Erin’s fingernails digging into my skin. Again, all the way up, and all the way down, our climaxes building like a wildfire.
“Oh, my God, Clinton,” Erin cries, her legs quaking violently. “This… I… it feels so good.”
I groan my agreement, and then I capture her next moan with my mouth, eagerly sucking it down and kissing her hard.
My tongue swirls with hers as I help her ride me, faster and faster, but I refrain from slamming into her the way I desperately want to.
And God, do I want to. Every feral part of me is begging me to lose control, to obliterate that pussy and make sure she doesn’t walk a day in her life without remembering what I feel like inside her.
But tonight, I let her drive, let her call the shots for how deep and how fast and how hard. She wants me tame? I can do tame.
The beast inside me will live.
Something happens, and the walls of her tighten even more, squeezing every inch of my cock so hard I grunt and hold her tighter. One look at her face tells me what it was — she’s on the brink of coming.
I kiss her harder, urging her on, and then I wrap my arms full around her and pull her closer, so that her hips open more, her back arched, body tilted.
And every new flex has her rubbing her clit against my pelvis.
Her moans are wild now, completely uninhibited, and she rocks faster and faster, keeping me inside her for the most part until that pussy clenches around me again and I know she’s finding her release.
I give myself permission to follow, moving her hips the way I need them to move, but continuing that pressure on her clit so she can ride out her wave.
And just like I saw when we first connected, stars blast me from every angle again, my climax a shocking, power-drunk punch to the gut that leaves me still and holding onto Erin for dear life as it shreds me apart.
For a long moment, I’m in outerspace — floating, numb and intoxicated by an all-consuming pleasure.
Slowly, the room comes back to me, starting with the soft sound of Erin’s haggard breaths, the feeling of me growing soft inside her, of her slick chest against mine and her hands twisted in my short hair.
She drops her forehead to my shoulder, and then her shoulders begin to shake — softly at first, and then uncontrollably, sobs racking her body there in my arms.
I don’t say a word.
I just hold her tighter, let her cry, and press my lips gently to her shoulder, her neck, her cheek. I don’t rush her to talk or to look at me. I just wrap her up and pray that she knows she can feel whatever she needs to feel with me — good, bad, or in-between.
You’re safe.
You’re in control.
I seal those silent promises with every kiss.