Lightning

"Oh. my. god." I think it was me that said it; I don't think it matters. My fingers brushed wisps of hair away from her face while I disentangled. Then I slumped back into the cushions at the other end of the couch, gasping and laughing, too limp even to take off the condom. She came over, peeled it off me, then wiped with the now-cold washcloth. I flinched at the cold, and a quiet "sorry" answered.

We ended up back on the floor in a nest of sofa cushions. I sprawled in front of the fire barely able to move. She leaned against me, one arm around my shoulder, the other hand roaming my body. It massaged the muscles across my chest, then my thighs, then ended up cradling my penis. After a few gentle squeezes, it started to thicken again, even though I wondered how it could.

A little more attention had my penis nearly at full length. She switched to a kneeling position and leaned down to it again. Partway down, she looked at me and smiled. "I figured one condom wouldn't be enough." Then the warmth of her mouth captured my penis and I yielded myself to her.