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This time, I had his attention.
I squeezed my breasts, pinching my nipples as my fingers worked their magic, making me warmer and wetter each time I dived deep.
I opened my eyes and looked over at him.
Daring him.
Challenging him.
His eyes roamed from my soft loins, up my body, to my hand clasped firmly around my breast.
His nostrils flattened, turning broad. He snorted. His eyes turned waxen and misty and shoved the plastic box under the bed with a violent kick. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it to the floor.
He unzipped his fly and let his shorts fall. He didn’t kick them off.
I peered at his large cock standing proud. Big, but not the biggest I had seen. It was his staying power that was legendary, not his size, I reminded myself.
I dipped my fingers into the vial again and added the lubrication to my pussy.
He grabbed my hips and pulled me toward the side of the bed. There was no warmup, no teasing, as he slammed his bulging cock deep inside me.
I gasped and let out a slow breath.
He peered down at me as he moved his hips back and forth. I rubbed my clit before thinking better of it. I was wet enough for him to do what he wanted with me.
What I needed from him.
My breasts bounced as he fucked me hard, making me slide backward. I braced myself on the wall.
Jackhammer indeed.
He went for me hard, and when I thought it was about time for him to slow down and shift to a lower gear the way most lovers did, he didn’t.
He just kept on going, pummeling me and taking me deeper and deeper. I wondered how he could keep going, how he could keep slamming me without growing overexcited.
I tightened around him and screamed as he tore an orgasm from my chest.
And still, he did not stop.
I wondered what I’d gotten myself into. I had brought this on myself.
My dress gathered around my hips as he finally shifted position, placing one hoof on the bed and my legs across his chest. My legs couldn’t even reach his shoulders otherwise my knees would be resting on them.
With the opening sprint over, he set to his long game.
Slower this time, luxurious and delicious, he kept up the slow pace for longer than I dared to imagine. Each time I stiffened, my hands found his fingers holding on tightly to my hips and pinning me in place.
The sweat dried on my body at a slower pace but a new layer dimpled the surface of my skin now. My body shuddered as he dove inside me.
His nostrils snorted and, although not tired, he was clearly working hard. He sped up as he felt me clench around him and he ripped another body-shaking orgasm from my throat.
I was in the hands of a master, somehow attuned to every movement and rhythmic pulse of my body.
He stroked me the way I liked, exactly when I liked.
I had never begged for my lover to stop before, and I was trying desperately hard not to say it now. He took me to the very fringes of pleasure that crested intense pain.
Unable to take it any longer, I broke.
