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The sleeping bag was tight, keeping us pinned together with him just able to move out and in but not letting me do much at all. He was in total control and moving slowly in and out by just moving his lower body while we continued to kiss. The slow thrust felt really nice. I could feel more distinct sensations from his swollen head and vein lined shaft when he went slow in contrast to the slamming fast. The pleasure built much slower but the longer the buildup the better the pay off. This was different, he wasn't fucking me or just having sex... no he was making love to me and the emotional bond was extremely close and intense.
I have no idea how long he made love to me; it seemed like hours of pure bliss and emotional ecstasy I have never felt before. Usually it's just sex and slamming until we cum for the pure pleasure and simple thrill. This was something more meaningful, deep and all-encompassing. My body hovered near orgasm for much longer feeling me with deep penetrating sensations which continued to build until the orgasm just seemed to be happening without a sudden explosion. This lasted much longer and was more fulfilling than ever before. Through the pleasure I was so happy I almost felt like crying from the pure joy of the moment.
It was then I realized he too had reached his climax and I felt his cock convulse and explode deep inside of me over and over again. The pleasure flooding from his climax merged with mine, increasing the already staggering bliss. But there was something else, much more powerful. Another emotion, eclipsing the pleasure my body felt... I loved him just as much as he loved me and it scared me to death.
Whatever were we to do?
