Chapter 19 #3
After just a few days as her lover, I’ve learned that Clover loves firm pressure, dirty talk, and feeling me come inside her, a thing that would be dangerous if it weren’t for her IUD, but which I’ve realized I love every bit as much.
Almost as much as I love feeling her pussy lock around me with nothing between us as I glide inside her…
But I don’t glide today, I don’t ease in.
I part her outer lips, position myself, and shove deep, in one sharp thrust, summoning another gasp from my girl as I grip her hips, pulling her back against me until I bottom out.
She’s tight—so tight it’s a physical challenge to pull back at first—but I don’t let up. I pull out until I’m at the tip and then drive back in, finding a deep, heavy rhythm that makes the concrete under my boots feel like it’s vibrating.
Clover braces her hands on the wall, fingers splayed, shoulder muscles straining as she pushes back into me. Every time I slam forward, she slams back, her breath hitching, fueling the fire coiling in my gut.
I’m not going to last long. Not long at all.
Which means, I need to take care of her sooner rather than later…
I reach around, my fingers digging into her hip bones for a beat, wishing I’d realized what perfect handles they are for dragging her back into my cock sooner.
Next time, I promise myself as I find her clit, working my fingers in deep, urgent circles that match the increasingly frantic rhythm of our thrusts.
“Oh, God,” she sobs, her trembling voice a beautiful thing. “Yes, Dean, yes. Right there. I’m so close, so close…”
“I can feel it, baby. Feel how close you are to coming for me.” I drag my teeth over her shoulder as she arches her back and spreads her legs a little more, giving me even more freedom to hammer into her. “So come for me, Clover. Come on my cock while I fill you up.”
“Yes, yes!” She cries out, her inner walls beginning to spasm and clench.
Jaw clenched and heart slamming in my chest, I give her everything I’ve got, the pro athlete in me taking over, determined to leave it all on the field. I shove deeper, harder, my thumb never leaving her clit, until she cries out again, her knees buckling as I take her there a second time.
And fuck, it’s even more intense, a violent, beautiful clench that sends me over with her. I shove in one last time, as deep as I can, and let go.
I come for what feels like an age, an eon, every cell jolting with the force of the release. I give her every drop, exactly the way she wants, exactly the way we both need, until we’re spent, limp, and sagging together against the wall next to the recycling bins.
“Wow,” I murmur once I’m capable of speech.
“We should do that again very soon,” she agrees.
I lean my forehead against the back of her head, smiling as I kiss her sweat-slick neck. “But with less sour sugar on me. I can smell my hair again, and it’s…pretty awful.”
She laughs, a sound that turns into a moan as the contraction of her inner muscles forces my softening cock half out of her. “No, don’t leave. Come back.”
“I will,” I promise. “After I’ve showered.”
Slowly, I pull out the rest of the way, tucking myself into my jeans before helping her guide her jumpsuit back up and over her arms. We both need to shower and change, we really do, but I can’t help lingering over her zipper, dragging it slowly back into place with a wistful sigh.
I look up to see her lips curved in a knowing smile.
“What?” I ask, returning her grin.
“Nothing. I was just thinking that it probably wouldn’t be hard to convince you to come fuck me again in my shower.”
“Not hard at all,” I agree, “but there’s not enough room to take care of you properly in there. We’d be better off in my shower.” I nod toward the big house. “Want to grab whatever you’re changing into for the party, sneak across the backyard, and meet me in the main bath in…ten minutes?”
She beams up at me, the joy on her face humbling, before she says, “Make it five. I already have everything all laid out.” She presses a quick kiss to my lips before starting for the stairs leading up to the apartment, calling over her shoulder, “Do you have conditioner, or should I bring mine?”
“I have some,” I tell her. “But bring yours anyway because it smells really good.”
Eyes dancing, she nods. “Will do. See you in five, old man.”
“Five, dirty girl,” I agree, heading out of the garage with a smile testing the limits of my face, feeling like I’ve won a game I didn’t even know was on the schedule.
And yes, I’m rushing into this thing with Clover too fast.
And yes, there’s a decent chance the new partner sex haze will clear in a few months, and we’ll realize there are issues we haven’t addressed. Obstacles we haven’t considered.
Hard times could lie ahead for me and my too-young girlfriend, who, as far as I know, still has no interest in being a stepmother, but…
I can’t bring myself to care.
Frederica’s death has taught me many things, but maybe the most important is that none of us know how much time we’ll be given. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. All we have is today and all the joy, love, and happiness we can eke out of it.
And I mean to squeeze out every drop.