Chapter 7 #3
They stepped out to dry. Bart dried Molly, then himself, while she blow dried her hair enough so it wasn’t soaking wet. Then she took his hand and led him into the bedroom, pulling down the blankets so the sheets were exposed. She’d left a twelve pack of condoms on the bed stand.
He looked at the condoms. “That going to be enough?”
“I hope not.”
He chuckled.
“What’s your pleasure, Cowboy?”
She stood before him naked and aroused, her breasts hard and firm, erect nipples pointing right at him. He was hard and ready, his eyes burning into hers, Molly reveling in the anticipation.
“Your pleasure is my pleasure.”
She got on the bed, lying on her back, her head on the pillow, legs spread, inviting him to be on top.
He stood by the bed, studying her perfect naked body, opening and installing a condom before moving into position between her legs.
On all fours, keeping his weight off her, he leaned down and kissed her from above.
The kiss started hot and got hotter. Molly could feel the blood rushing up her neck, her nipples exploding, and the moisture hot between her legs.
She was ready, but loved that he was taking his time.
She moved her hands to his face, feeling his clean shaven cheeks and strong chin, and pulled his mouth tight to hers. She loved kissing him like this. Moving her hands behind his neck, she held his face tight. Mouths were now open, tongues in play, and lips devouring the other.
When the kiss ended, she whispered, “I’m ready.”
He sat up and moved his erection to her opening, never taking his eyes off hers.
When she gave him the double eyebrow raise, he pushed gently and smoothly entered.
Molly gasped and moved her hands to his hips.
She needed a short time for her body to adjust. He made steady, slow, shallow strokes while her body relaxed.
When she was ready for more depth, she pulled on his hips as he pushed to the end, Molly moaning every inch of the way.
Fully embedded, she moved her hands behind his back and held him tight.
She wanted all of him for a few moments.
Completely full, the pressure fantastic, he was exactly where she wanted him to be.
She moved her hands to his face and pulled him down for a kiss.
He kept the pressure all in while they kissed and she moaned.
She liked men hard and deep, but the sensations were exceptional, erotic waves pulsing through her groin, shivers up her back and into her neck and face, his pulses deep inside.
She raised her hips and wrapped her long legs behind his back, locking her ankles.
She was ready for everything he had. The kiss finally ended, and he began long, penetrating strokes, medium paced, hard, and deep.
Molly’s head was light and elevated, the moment surreal.
She’d been with many men, but there was something different with this man.
She held tight while he rhythmically penetrated her, each stroke an erotic rush.
She heard herself moaning and groaning and felt her powerful body thrusting back from the lower position.
He never took his eyes off hers, checking to ensure she was comfortable.
Searching for what was different about this man, it came to her.
It was his eyes. They were fixed on her.
He was attentive. The lovemaking was about her, not him.
He was not just a stud cowboy strutting his considerable stuff.
He was making love to her, celebrating her.
He was paying attention, following her cues.
She kept her eyes locked on his, the visual connection erotic.
Yes, he was deep inside. But, more significantly, they were connected emotionally.
She wanted him to know that she felt it. His face close, their eyes locked, she whispered, “That’s fantastic, perfect, really.”
He wasn’t a talker, but she wanted to assure him that she was comfortable.
In response, he increased the pace to long, aggressive strokes.
She opened her eyes wide with a huge grin, encouraging him on, and he responded.
She held tight as he moved into a final frenzied finish.
She shrieked as her first contraction launched his release, and their bodies moved into a tightly synchronized rhythm, her spasms working his pulses, as the natural process played itself out.
She kept her legs wrapped around his back to signal she still wanted him inside.
She quivered each time he pulsed. She loved the connection with this man.
When the pulses died down, they lay quietly for a long time before she finally released him.
He pulled out and rolled onto his back, lying next to her, both still breathing hard, Molly’s heart still pounding.
His hand found hers, their sides warm against the other.
No words. Two lovers deep in the aftermath.
Finally, Molly rolled over as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
He stayed on his back and she moved tight against his side, her head on his shoulder, her breasts tight against his torso, her leg over his.
Still no words, only beautiful, warm waves.
“Thank you for being so attentive.”
He said nothing.
“You’re a wonderful lover. I can feel you paying attention. I love that. You’re not in it just for you. You’re in it for us. There’s a huge difference. And I want you to know I can feel that.”
Still nothing. He didn’t like to talk during lovemaking. Maybe not after, either.
She elbowed him, chuckling.
He kissed her, still no words.
“The strong, silent type. I can live with that.”
She felt him chuckle, still no words.