After Party

"Cole, I want you to fuck me. Please," I whisper.

Whatever spell was holding us is broken by those words, and he lowers himself between my legs, his cock suddenly teasing at my entrance. I try to wriggle myself onto him, not above begging again.

Then, with one long, smooth stroke he drives himself home. We both cry out at the sudden feel of him inside me, and we still again for a moment, letting us both adjust to the new sensation. His cock is seated to the hilt, and he stretches and fills me amazingly.

"God, Cara, you feel amazing," he groans.

"So do you," I pant. "Now stop talking and fuck me!"

He starts moving. Slowly, slowly, he pulls out to the very tip, and then slowly, slowly pushes back into me. I know he's taunting me, teasing me, but I can see the strain on his face too, how tough it is for him to maintain this much control. But I don't want control. I want wild, crazy, hard.

I decide that he doesn't get to make all the choices here. When he withdraws again, I grab hold of his ass, and at the same time thrust my hips up to meet him, plunging him back inside me.

He takes the hint, and soon he is slamming into me in hard, rapid strokes. We are fucking frantically, grabbing at each other, all nails and tongues and teeth. Both of us are panting, moaning, the scent of sex heavy in the air, the sounds of our flesh pounding together ringing in our ears.

I raise my legs onto his shoulders, offering him deeper access. He grips onto my thighs, keeping up the incredible pace of his thrusts, but now at an even deeper angle. From the noises he's making and the expression on his face, I think he must be close. I tighten my pussy muscles around him, and feel rewarded when he moans and shudders in pleasure. But he doesn't come.

"You really think I'd be done with you that easy?" His voice is rough, deep, wild.

"You're not close?" I ask, panting.

"Oh, I'm close. But I'm nowhere near done with you yet, sweetheart."

He pulls out of me, swiftly, sits back up and surveys me with satisfaction. His eyes linger on my gaping pussy, makes a noise of approval at seeing how I've stretched to fit him.

He slaps my thigh lightly, and when he speaks again it's like he's biting out the words.

"On your knees."

I sit up, and turn over slowly, giving him a little show as I settle myself on all fours, my knees pressed together. I grip onto the headboard of my bed, my breasts hanging down, heavy and aching with desire.

He runs his hands over the soft curve of my ass, squeezes, and then bends to kiss it. When he straightens again, he forces his knee between mine, forces my legs open just as I hoped he would. The thrill of his strength and sheer masculine power has me ready to beg again.

He slips a hand between my legs from behind, his index finger instantly finding my clit and stroking gently. It draws a low, rough moan from me, and he laughs softly. Using two fingers, he stretches me open again for his cock, and then plunges into me, swift and consuming.

My eyes roll back into my head as the pleasure of his cock in my pussy takes over. He doesn't move yet, just holds still as his big, thick cock throbs inside me. I can feel it throbbing, like a second, somehow more intimate, heartbeat. He reaches over me from behind, and grips onto my hands where I've placed them on the headboard. In this position, I am pinned, prone, entirely at his mercy.

I fucking love it.

Then he starts to fuck me again, and I lose myself completely. He's pounding into me, his hips slamming against my ass as he rides me. He is relentless, and I push back as much as I can, trying to increase the friction as much as possible.

He clasps my hands together on the headboard, so that he only needs to use one hand to pin them there. Moving his other one under me, he grabs hold of my breast, kneading and squeezing. There's nothing gentle here, just rough, animal sex.

When he starts toying with my nipple, and buries himself to the hilt, the tip of his cock reaching my cervix... I feel myself falling over that edge again, and I scream out in pleasure. I moan his name, try to free myself from his grasp but he holds me there until the orgasm claims me. Everything narrows down to the pleasure wracking my body, and I give into it completely.

While I come, the muscles in my pussy tense and clamp, and that extra sensation proves to be Cole's undoing. Once he knows that I've climaxed, he lets himself go over the edge too. He roars out his orgasm, the force of his cum spasming inside me.

We are both sweat-slicked, panting, waves of pleasure rocking over us. He presses his forehead to my bare back as he gasps, breathless in the aftermath of sex. Still inside me, it takes a few moments for both of us to move out of the position and collapse onto the mattress.

Lying on our sides, legs twined together, we still breathe heavily, our hearts beating wildly.

"That was..." he begins.

"The best sex you've ever had?" I ask, with a wry smile.

"Without a doubt," he says.

I raise an eyebrow.

"I mean it, Cara. That was... Incredible. Nothing else has even come close to that."

"Are you serious?"

He lifts himself up on an elbow, to scrutinise my face.

"Cara, are you trying to say that that wasn't the best sex you've ever had?"

I blush and smile lazily, my satisfaction written all over my face, and that seems answer enough for him. But I answer anyway.

"Cole, you have the best tongue, and the best cock I have ever met."

He barks a laugh, the loud, rich sound ringing around my newly-quiet bedroom.

"You should probably go now, though," I whisper, not wanting him to leave at all.

"I probably should," he whispers back.

But he throws his arm around me, pulling me close.

We fall asleep like that, satiated and spent, too content to care about why we shouldn't.

---

Cole wakes me up the next morning by stroking his fingertips across my neck, shoulders, and down my sides. When he realises I'm awake, he smiles at me, green eyes full of warmth. He dips his head to kiss me, a soft brush of his lips against mine.

We are both still naked, but he's draped the blanket over us at some point during the night. I can't bring myself to feel shy around him, not after everything we shared last night.

"Good morning," I whisper. "What time is it?"

"Still early," he says, kissing my shoulder. "Only about 6am."

I groan and cover my eyes.

"It's a Sunday morning, I should still be asleep!"

"Well, you could go back to sleep," Cole murmurs, stroking my exposed breasts, "or we could do something much more interesting."

I am instantly far less sleepy. But I am sweaty and sticky and in need of a good wash, and I know I won't relax until I tidy myself up a bit. He's seen me at all angles last night, but come on, I still have some standards around the hottest man I've ever seen.

"I think I better take a shower..." I start.

He looks more than a little disappointed, but since he's a decent guy, he doesn't try to wheedle to get his own way.

"You want to join me?" I finish.

A wicked smile flashes across his face.

"Oh, hell yeah."

I rise from the bed, watching with satisfaction as he follows my every naked movement. In the thin stream of dawn sunlight pouring in through the window, he watches my heavy breasts bob as I walk. I pad through to my bathroom, and turn on the shower to warm up the water. Thankfully, I have a stash of towels in my room and don't have to go out to the closet in the hall.

That could be awkward.

It feels riskier in the daylight, like there's more chance of getting caught, but my fear is overtaken by the delicious naughtiness of it.

Cole sneaks into the bathroom behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and hauling me back to his chest, making me breathless. He holds me to him, his muscled arm wrapped just under my breasts, the beginnings of an erection pressing and growing against my ass.

He whispers into my ear, tells me to look at myself in the mirror.

I almost gasp at my own reflection. I am transformed; the incredible sex last night has turned me into a wild thing. My hair mussed, eye makeup smudged, my skin sheened with sweat and our mixed arousal... I look positively feral.

I look like I've been well-fucked.

"I told you, didn't I. You wouldn't look so untouched after a night with me."

Cole catches my eye in the mirror, and the look he gives me is so purely masculine; smug satisfaction at the results of his efforts. He looks every bit as dishevelled though, his curls sticking up at all angles, his skin bearing that same sweaty sheen. If possible, it makes him look even sexier.

Together, our joined reflection looks good. We look good together, a pair of wildlings.

"We look a mess," I laugh.

He bends his head to my neck, and whispers onto my clammy skin.

"You have never looked sexier, sweetheart."

He starts kissing my neck, the arm braced around my waist moving upwards, his hand reaching to caress my breasts. I watch him in the mirror, feel my pussy dampening again in response to the sight.

His other hand moves from my hip to dance lightly over my stomach, his fingers tracing circles there as he continues to nuzzle my throat. I flex my spine, press my ass into his groin, and am rewarded when he sucks in a sharp breath.

He grows less tentative now, the slight timidity of our first morning waking up together giving way to more confidence, that self-assured desire. Clasping my breast in one hand, he dips the other between my legs, finding my clit almost immediately. I moan, and he murmurs another "good girl" at the wetness he finds.

He pushes me forward, closer to the mirror, and I brace my hands on the bathroom countertop. With no further preamble, he bends me over, uses my hips to pull me up onto my tiptoes, and enters me from behind.

I gasp as his cock slides into me, spearing me. We watch in the mirror as our bodies start moving together, letting instinct take over. The water from the shower is heating up now, the air around us steamy and slippery, but the mirror hasn't steamed over yet and the view is incredible.

He thrusts into me while I'm bent over, a few more times, but he can't see all of me at this angle. So he wraps his fingers in my air, uses it to roughly pull me up, almost to standing while he keeps on thrusting. My breasts jut forward as my spine arches back -- we are both transfixed by the reflection in the mirror, both of us extremely turned on, panting with the sheer eroticism of watching ourselves fuck.

He tugs on my hair a little, and growls at me, "Look at us, Cara. Look how good you look when I fuck you."

I do look good, with him inside me.

I spread my legs further, rock onto the balls of my feet, and now I can see where our bodies are joined. The mirror shows me glimpses of his cock as it slams in and out of me. My breasts bounce in time to his thrusts, his hand still fisted in my hair to hold me in place. He braces his other hand on the countertop to keep us steady, and this time I know for sure he's close to coming.

I'm close, but I'm not quite there yet. I bring my hand down to cup myself, my fingers sliding in the wetness from last night and right now. Cole's eyes widen in the mirror as I start stroking my clit above where our bodies are connected, and the hand he has in my hair tightens reflexively.

I am finding that I quite like putting on a show, for Cole.

Moaning and writhing, I continue flicking the sensitive bud of my clit, circling it with one finger until I'm right on the edge. Even as he carries on moving inside me, he is looking at me as if he's never seen anything as wondrous as me, and I think in this moment, I could ask him for the moon on a stick and he'd get it for me.

Acting on impulse, I push my hand down further, the heel of my palm now pressing on my clit, and my fingers move down to my entrance, forming a circle to grip him whenever he pulls out of my pussy. He has no retreat now, and as I watch him in the mirror, I can see tension building inside him.

He builds his thrusts again, mounting to a rising crescendo, and all I can do is go with it as he begins to lose control, his movements wild and rough.

And then, he explodes. The force of his climax propels his hips forwards and almost knocks me off my feet. His body shudders convulsively around mine, echoes of his orgasm pulsing through him. He pants through it, gripping onto me as if I'm his life raft in a storm.

"You didn't come?" he says raggedly.

"I wanted to watch you," I say.

"But -- "

"Later," I say, and pull him into the steam of the shower.

---

After the shower, we are ready to go again, but we took so long cleaning each other that we're not sure how wise a decision that would be. Becca could be up at any moment, and it probably wouldn't be the best idea to let her hear me screaming her boyfriend's name. As much as that thought has definitely provided an extra layer of thrill so far.

My toes curl just thinking about the shower. We spent a good half-hour soaping each other up, languidly caressing and learning each other's bodies in slower, gentler ways than the rapid fucking that happened immediately before.

Cole was very concerned that I hadn't orgasmed in front of the mirror, as much as I assured him I enjoyed myself, so he rectified that in the shower by unhooking the shower head, turning it to massage mode, and holding it to my pussy until I screamingly came.

Three of the best orgasms I've ever had, all from the same man in less than twenty-four hours. And I'm already raring for number four.

I'm dressed now, though, in leggings and a cream sweater, and Cole's back in his black tee and jeans combo.

I had thought it might be awkward when we were back in our clothes, but somehow it's not. We can't seem to help touching each other though, even just a brush of his hand against my arm, or my hip nudging against his. We chat about stuff other than sex, and find ourselves laughing together the way we always used to, back in college. It's all done in whispers, though, in case Becca wakes and overhears.

He's about to leave, we're about to start the uncomfortable goodbyes, and I worry that he's just going to say "see ya" and leave.

But he pulls me close, tips my chin up with the crook of his finger, and kisses me deeply. A slow, sensuous, probing kiss that has only a little of the fire of last night, but is somehow so much warmer.

He pulls back slowly, presses his forehead to mine, and wraps his arm around my waist, holding me close.

"I'm not ready to leave yet," he says, gently.

"Then don't," I reply, and kiss him again.

I reach up and circle my arms around his neck as we explore each other's mouths. His tongue dances with mine, a languorous dance that has me melting into his arms, succumbing to what he's offering me.

We pause the kiss to simply hold each other for a moment, his eyes never leaving mine. I can't help but love the feeling of his arms around me, the warm strength of him comforting as well as arousing.

There is a question in his eyes, and I dip my head in an almost imperceptible nod. Yes.

His hands move from the small of my back, curling under the soft knit of my sweater. He pulls it up, slowly. Agonisingly slowly. A soft, impatient moan escapes my lips.

"I didn't get to undress you last night," he whispers. "Let me take my time with you, please."

I should tell him that we don't have the luxury of time, that we shouldn't even be going down this road again right now; it's too risky. But my throat closes around the words I want to say, and I just nod again. It's enough for him, and he continues the soft, lazy removal of my sweater. Finally, he passes it over my head and tosses it onto the nearest chair. He appraises me, deciding which item of my clothing to remove next. Like I'm his own personal gift to unwrap. He settles on my leggings, tugging them down the length of my legs, even helping me step out of them.

There is something reverent about the way he undresses me, and warmth pools in my core in response to his rapt attentions. There's nowhere to hide away from him, now that daylight floods my bedroom. He's seeing me without the alcohol, without the soft lamplight smoothing out imperfections. He's seeing me as I am, and the desire in his gaze is evidence enough that he's happy with the view.

He pulls off his shirt, and I am struck silly -- again -- by the beauty of him, his body. Pulling me close again, he draws me in for another kiss. We stay like that, mouth to mouth, for a few minutes before he starts kissing his way down my throat, his fingers running up my back to the clasp of my bra. Guiding me back gently, he moves us to the wall, pushing me up against it.

Expert fingers unhook my bra easily, and then he runs his thumbs over the shoulder straps, easing them off my shoulders until the bra falls away, discarded.

My breasts are bared to him once more, and it's like the first time he's ever seeing them. Pressing me into the wall, he bends his head down and begins to worship them. It's different, having his attention on them while standing upright, rather than lying down like last night. They feel fuller like this, more sensitive, and as he sucks my nipple into his mouth I dig my fingers into his shoulders and bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

He alternates between both breasts, flicking my nipples with his tongue. He dips lower, kissing my stomach.

Then, he gets on his knees before me, just as I did for him last night.

He eases the lace of my underwear down over my backside, peels it gently down my legs, letting his fingers linger over the contours of my thighs, the backs of my knees.

I wonder, briefly, if I will ever get over the thrill of being naked in front of him. Or whether, after today, I'll ever get the chance to find out.

Now that my underwear is a wisp of black lace on the floor, he stays kneeling on the floor and takes hold of my thigh, lifts my leg easily and hooks it over his shoulder, exposing me to him. I shiver as I stare down at him, as he moves his head closer to my hot flesh.

He holds my gaze, pierces me with those green eyes of his, and doesn't break his stare as he gently, reverently, plants a kiss between my legs. A soft moan escapes my lips.

Slowly, Cole licks my clit, his tongue hot and wet between my folds. He takes his time, maintaining eye contact as I writhe against the cool wall. He uses his grip on my thigh to hold me to him, not letting me escape his mouth.

Moving a little further down, he uses his free hand to open me up, and then plunges his tongue inside me. I bite down hard on my lower lip, to keep my scream contained in my mouth. His tongue swirls inside me, circling and probing.

I'm still standing, just, but my knees are growing weaker. Cole's face is buried in my pussy, his nose brushing against the sensitive bud of my clit while his tongue laps within me. I could easily let myself go over the edge here, let the orgasm take over, but I find that I have the same instinct he did last night. He didn't want to come in my mouth, that first time.

If this is to be our last time, I want to do it right. As much as I love the feel of him kneeling before me with his tongue inside me, I want to do this properly -- my pussy wrapped around his cock.

Shakily, I tell him to stand up.

He looks a little confused, but he does as I ask, gently unhooks my leg from his shoulder and stands back up. His mouth glistens with my juices, and he licks his lips slowly, as though it's the sweetest nectar.

With him back upright again, I make quick, silent work of removing his jeans and boxers once more. I take him by the hand and lead him to the bed.

Just as he lay me down last night, this time I push him gently back, and he lies down atop the unmade covers. I crawl up from the foot of the bed, taking my time, planting kisses all over his body as I slide up him. Straddling him, his cock hard and ready underneath me, I bend my head down to kiss him, deep, slow and savouring. He cups the back of my neck, strokes my cheek as we kiss. Then he reaches down with one hand to capture my breast, almost as if he can't resist the compulsion to touch them.