Deep Down Inside Ch. 01-04

"Oh god," she exclaimed huskily, "oh God that's good!"

I ran my hands up her back, then clutched her narrow waist. If Jimmy were to make good on his promise and erect a statue in honor of me tapping Camille's ass, I'd submit the sight before me as the perfect bronze casting. Camille looked so fucking sexy on top of me—her shoulders forward and arms straight down to brace herself, her biceps squeezing her tits together, her narrow waist undulating as her ass bounced up into the air and down on my hips, taking my cock deep into her wet pussy. Her hair waved with the motion and strands broke loose to hang over her eyes, as electrified pleasure shook her beautiful face.

As gorgeous as her body was, the look on her sweet face is what turned me on the most. Her lower lip slackened from her bottom teeth, her eyes were big and the color of a blue flame, her nostrils flared with each deep breath, which also made her bossome heave. She was taking everything in, and giving even more back.

Her eyebrows were relaxed, raised but off to the side, candidly sincere in how much she savored the thrashing her pussy was taking and completely at ease displaying it in front of the guy whose cock bottomed out in her, a guy she'd only been out with a handful of times.

Every ten seconds or so her lips would form a small "O" and she'd drag out that same letter, "Ohhhh!" followed by a smile and a throaty breathless moaning of, "God that feels so good."

Bottom line—she liked herself some dick and wasn't shy about letting me know it. She rode me. I might've used the word feminist to describe her, though I don't fully understand what that label means anymore—I just know she didn't take shit from a man, refused to be held to a different standard, and apparently gave zero credence to slut shaming.

Furthering my inference, she rode me even harder, seemingly determined to come on my cock.

My dick was crushing against the front wall of her vagina, like punching into it, and just before I thought my cock was going to bend in half, the angle changed, my dick slammed in up to the hilt, her hips jerking to a stop. The initial friction of my head against her inner wall and clit made her bite her lower lip and forced a hitch in her breath, and then the burst of deep, rock hard cock caused her to breathe out, "Oh shit, oh my God!"

I didn't really know what to think. I was having the hottest sex of my life, but then my mind drifted back to Kaden's jab at Suzy's Bar. He'd brought up the name Steve, presumably an ex, and I couldn't help but wonder if she'd been as sexually wild with him. And if so, is that what Kaden alluded to? Did Steve tell Kaden the crazy bitch fucked him so hard he thought his dick would break in half?

I like to think of myself as open minded, a champion of equality, but I apparently held a double standard. I was getting crazy jealous of some guy I'd never even met. I guess I'd envisioned Camille as the woman every guy tried to woo into marriage, but then it was unclear if we were even officially dating yet and she'd already served up her pussy piping hot.

And as she continued to ride my cock, her body feverish to the touch, and completely sweaty, I started to get visions of this Steve guy rocking her world the same way I did. Having no idea what he looked like I jumbled together a face and body from douchy guys I'd seen on TV.

Camille was so wet and my thighs were so covered in perspiration that her ass just skimmed over them. And then came a splat noise when my dick made full penetration and her pussy lips smacked against my pubic bones. I imagined Steve hearing that splat and thinking, "Oh yeah, this girl wants my dick bad!" Of course he'd thought that, it's what I was thinking. It was the only thing I could think. But maybe he one upped me and said it out loud with a big perverted smile on his face, "Damn Camille, you can seriously fuck a dick!"

And before I knew it I was channeling this imaginary Steve and growled out, "Oh fuck your pussy feels good. You like it like that? You like my dick in you like that?" As I spoke a hot flash came over me, and it made the side of my face tingle. I even heard a buzzing in my ears. I'd never had my face tingle like that during sex.

She put two fingers over my mouth to shush me. I'd gone a little too far. I almost felt the need to explain those words weren't really my own, although they totally were.

The last minute was even more intense as we both sped towards climax, and with her weight shifting to-and-fro on top of me with ever increasing intensity, my bare ass rubbed the knitted blanket she laid down to protect her couch until my butt started to burn. And then I thought back to the other thing Kaden had said, his cryptic message of how this Steve guy still had the couch. The image of a nude Steve and Camille spreading out a blanket so they could go at it on his couch hit me like a ton of bricks.

Jealousy lit through me, my face burning and tingling. I emphatically squeezed her hips and followed the arcing motion. I pulled and pushed, making her slide harder and faster and the splat grew louder. The more fierce the jealousy the more fiercely I drove my hard cock in that sweet, trouble-making pussy. Our motion intensified so much that we caused a loud grating noise from under us as the couch and the throw rug under it scooted an inch across the floor. Suddenly a plausible meaning to the couch reference shot to mind—could she have broken his couch? Did Steve have a couch in his living room with one end resting on a stack of books, and when anyone asked about it he'd tell them, " Oh yeah, I nailed this chick so hard my couch collapsed."

I slammed her down on my cock and erupted in her pussy. She softly convulsed, also coming down from an orgasm. She then laid on top of me as my dick softened. I'd say twenty minutes had passed since we walked through her door, of which five were in the kitchen pouring lemonade. The full glasses were set on the kitchen counter, the ice unmelted.

She then hopped off me and made for the shower.

I assumed she didn't want me to leave, and I didn't want to put on my nasty riding clothes, so I waited on her couch in a towel. I showered after her and she grabbed a pair of gym shorts I kept in my car. We made tuna salad on greens, with me in nothing but gym shorts and her in sweatpants and a tee without a bra.

Food perked us up a bit. She didn't have a dining table, instead she had a pass through bar with stools, and we sat there as I read the movie listings off my phone. She leaned over into my lap, draping her head over the side of my leg as if she'd died from boredom. When she rolled her head over to stare up at me I took her picture. Her face grew prettier every time I looked. I told her I wanted to remember this day forever.

We slid off the stools and bumped into one another. A jolt ran through me, it being the first time our bodies touched since we'd done it on the couch. We embraced and our bodies melded together. Having showered we moved to her bed this time, and I crawled on top of her.

The sun was sinking and seeped in through her bedroom window. It turned her smooth skin golden and made her glow like an angel. Her eyes seemed lit from within, still the color of a blue flame, just brighter in the dim room. Her hair fell perfectly around her head, the russet streaks turning copper in the evening light. She stretched her arms over her head with a subtle twist at her narrow waist so her right leg could bend and her left lay flush with mine. The pose looked so fluid I wondered if she'd studied ballet.

I made slow rhythmic movements, sensually sliding my cock in and out. She asked me to go easy. Her voice was languid and frail, and the corners of her mouth stuck together when she parted her lips.

"I'm going to be so sore tomorrow, Alex"

The sun continued to set. She always had a small highlight at the tip of her nose and it was still there even in near darkness. The low light emphasized the stunning contrast between her hair and skin, and her dark long eyelashes and light blue eyes. Stark. Angelic. Perfect.

I moved her right knee up as I neared orgasm, and the limber limb eased back so her knee sat within her armpit. She turned her head and bit her thumbnail. A tear stayed at the edge of her eye. Her lower lip trembled as she drew in a deep, husky breath. Her brow furrowed and she hinted at a smile as I finally came inside her a second time.

I already wanted to marry the woman.

This had been exactly how I'd imagined making love to her would be. Our first time on her couch was hot and crazy, but this slow tender love making allowed me to savor the ambiance of her being. Her superstar good looks made it feel like we were living in a damn movie. Fuck, I could've gotten off just watching the scene from afar.

We lay in each other's arms, the light from the TV turning her white sheets the color of ice. She drew an invisible doodle on my chest and suggested we get something delivered. When I got up for my phone she said she had a men's tee-shirt that would fit me so long as I wasn't bothered by it once belonging to another guy.

I slipped it on and it was one size too big. I tugged at the extra fabric over my chest where "Aerosmith" was printed.

"It was a tad loose on him too," She gave a smart-alec smile. "But perfect for my nightie." She didn't exactly press my macho-insecurity button, but she deliberately tickled it just to tease.

I made sure she knew it didn't bother me, but of course it did. It was stupid, but that's what jealousy is—stupid. I was being stupid now, and I was being stupid when I'd thought about that guy Steve as we made love on her couch. And Camille was the last woman to be won over with jealous stupidity.