R: The Second Installment

"I know," was all I could whisper back. Then he was holding my hips again, sliding slowly out of me and all the good feelings returned. He slid in again only shallower, then out, again and again slowly but a little deeper each time. I still couldn't decide whether I was uncomfortable or if this was the best feeling I had ever experienced, but then I realized that I couldn't even really think at all. I let myself feel him and see him with his head lifted back, and the veins in his neck, and how deep clefts in the sides of his stomach defined his muscles with each thrust and how he was starting to shine with effort along his shoulders and how he was so beautiful and again how this shouldn't possibly be happening to me.

"Brace yourself against the headboard." He whispered it out but it was almost a groan too. I reached over my head and placed my palms against the headboard. Then he released my hip with one of his hands and started winding it around my clit again. This time he was more deliberate and I was so wet and excited that quickly my back had arched and my head was thrown back. I wanted to sigh and moan and whimper in pleasure, to yell out because now my toes were curled and my calves and hamstrings had tightened around his shoulder, or to beg him to grab me and fuck me harder or just never to stop making me feel like this, and I wasn't sure what was going to come out as my mouth opened and my chest clamped down, but whatever it was caught in my throat as I came. The clenching in the rest of my body seemed heightened by the fact that my ass was held open by his cock. It lasted forever and even as I finally collapsed and felt him grab my hips again and pull me all the way down on him and thrust into me hard a few times before locking against me I was still in a haze. I could feel a heart beat hammering but I wasn't sure if it was his or mine.

"Please take it out..." The stabbing feelings had come back.

He withdrew and I rolled over onto my side away from him. I curled up and was shaking a little. He collapsed next to me. "That wasn't as gentle as I had intended...I didn't hurt you, did I?" He had reached out to stroke my arm.

I shook my head. I didn't even want to admit to him how much I had liked something so dirty. His breathing slowed quickly and soon he was up, wiping himself off and lifting my leg to slide the towel between my legs and stem the flow of lube and my wetness. I didn't know what he wanted. I wanted to sleep but would have done anything to please him at that point. He started to gather his things and put his clothes back on, and then anxiousness filled me through my veins. I was sure that he would, after all, leave me. I wanted to beg him to stay, but couldn't bring myself to do it and steeled against the idea of spending the rest of the night alone in our rumpled dampened sheets, feeling how open I was because of him. He swiftly dumped the contents of the night table back into the bag and shoved it, along with my discarded clothes, into the closet. I watched him silently, still curled on my side, and had to fight back a tear as it formed.

Then he went to the dresser and opened and closed a few drawers before throwing a pair of pajama pants and an old school sweatshirt at me. He came over and kneeled beside me and ran his fingertips over my cheek. "I think we've made too much of a mess of your bed. Let's go use mine." I nodded and sat up and as I slid the sweatshirt over my head I wiped the tear out of my eye, only it had changed to one of relief and gratitude. As I pulled on my pajama pants he dropped a pair of terrycloth hotel slippers at my feet. He pocketed my key again and turned off the bathroom lights as we left.

The way up to his room was quiet and empty, and though I staggered slightly in the bright lights of the hallway he was solid and firm and guided me with his arm around me. When we got to his room we peeled back the freshly turned down sheets and I collapsed into the soft, cool pillows. He took off his shoes and clothes and slid into bed next to me, wearing just his boxers. I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and he pulled the covers up over us, tucking them around me. I lay on my stomach and faced him, and he lay close to me on his side, rubbing my back with his big, warm hand and murmuring into my ear and against my hair as I fell asleep.