Testing, One, Two, Three

"Hurry up Marco, for fucks sake." I growl. He growls back nipping at my neck and scratching across my chest.

A breathless 'Jean' later Marco finally cums. Inside. Mother fucker.

"Bout time."

Marco laughs. He slaps me hard, a punishing slap. "Ow what the fuck was that for?"

"I didn't tell you you could cum." He says between breaths.

"You never said I couldn't, now get out of me. I'm sensitive." That last part is added quietly. I'm half fucking hard now. Fuck. Just ignore it. Too tired for another round.

Marco pauses and smooths the sore skin of my ass cheek in an apology. "I thought I did, must have not got around to saying it out loud. Sorry." He slips out with a horrid squelch.

"You messed my ottoman." Marco whines after I've moved away from the mess.

"Good. I hate that thing." Fuck. That was some fantastic sex. Slow motion like, I lay flat on the cold wooden floor. Sex made me sweaty and sticky and hot. Ugh.

Marco has a hop to his step and hums as he pours water and dips a cleaning rag in it. Why is he so peppy after sex? Wish I was, I always just pass the fuck out afterwards. His footsteps stop near my ear. His knees pop as he crouches down, he smells like sex.

"Here. You got it all over you."

"You came in my ass again." I'm not mad, not really. Just wish he could remember that I don't really care for the diarrhea feel of it.

"Sorry. But you never said I couldn't." As an apology (I fucking guess) he cleans up for me.

"Touché." Then after a pause, "I'm going to sleep."

"At least put some pants on."

"Naw." With that I turn over and pass out. Marco throws a sheet over my lower half anyway.