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Aware he hadn't come, Paz sheepishly disengaged herself long enough to recline. Positions switched, Abercrombie resumed his spot between her legs. Paz raised her knees where they flared around his thighs. She'd slid far. So far his low-hanging balls weighed against her bony rump.
Since she'd already gotten off, Abercrombie felt no need to be considerate. From the start he poked her relentlessly. The jarring of Paz' head the retort to his nuts bouncing off her ass.
His last jabs were the most satisfying kind. If possible, those spasms would've split her. And then she would've known true bliss.
Exhausted, suddenly feeling like an overextended man in his late 40s, Abercrombie rolled off Paz onto his back. Despite himself, he exhaled heavily. If she noticed his labored breathing, it went unmentioned. Paz rested her head against his heaving upper torso. She lay there quietly until Abercrombie's distress subsided.
After he calmed, Paz kissed his chest then ruffled the coarse curls sprouting across it. He looked down into her face warily. A pixie bubbled back at him. The small hand upon his chest crept down, reaching between his legs. Her fingers gently held a portion of his penis upright. The remainder angled over her hand.
Paz stroked Abercrombie into mild revival. She didn't conjure sufficient arousal. Yet she did enough to encourage him.
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