Page 41 of The Fed Sex Man

I looked her over, hoping to find fault. At the beginning of the the evening, her hair was in a bun. Our make out session on the porch caused it to become unkempt, and it now cascaded over her shoulders and onto her back. A back that tapered to a narrow waist and then blossomed into wide hips.

Her ass was a work of art. Athletic legs connected her mouth-watering butt to the cutest feet I’d ever seen. Even her toes defined perfection, each of which had a carefully painted ruby red toenail.

“I think we’re good, now,” she said, reminding me one more time that she was ready to continue.

I wiped the remnants of a tear from the corner of my eye.

“It doesn’t hurt?” I asked.

“Not at all,” she responded. “You?”

“It feels good. Great, really.”

“It feels perfect,” she cooed.

I couldn’t agree with her more. I took one last look at my accomplishment and grinned at the thought of continuing.

“Here we go,” I said.

I began to row my hips fore and aft rhythmically. Her inner walls gripped my swollen shaft like a vise. Each stroke was a reminder that I’d found something special.

Something more than memorable.

Sixty seconds into what I hoped would be an all-night affair, my scrotum tightened. My legs began to shake. The end was near, and the only way to prevent it was to stop fucking her.

But, I couldn’t.

I took another stroke. Then, another.

My cock swelled, warning me that I was on the cusp of reaching climax.

Embarrassment encompassed me. Without a doubt, one more stroke would end our night’s sexual journey. Disappointed at my performance but incapable of taking pause, I took one last powerful thrust.

When my balls came in contact with her clit, I erupted. In response, she let out a moan of pleasure that echoed off the living room walls. To make sure she realized how much I appreciated her prized possession, I took two powerful full-length thrusts while in mid-climax.

Those two strokes cast me into another universe altogether. When I returned to earth, I collapsed over the arm of the couch at her side.

“Holy. Shit.” I drew a choppy breath. “That was amazing.”

Her mouth formed a slight smile. Then, her face blushed.

I was embarrassed by my performance and couldn’t help but wonder if she was truly satisfied. “What about you? Did you like it?”

She exhaled. “It felt really good.”

“Normally, I last longer than that,” I admitted. “It’s just…your pussy is…it’s fucking amazing. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “If we practice at it, maybe we’ll get better.”

I was all for practicing, as long as she didn’t become emotionally attached. I placed the palm of my hand against the curvature of her ass. “They say practice makes perfect.”

She raised a shaking hand. “I’ll volunteer to find out.”