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The pleasure barrels through me with such ferocity and heat that I can't even scream. I throw my head back and ride out the ecstasy.
Craig shuts off the vibrator and tosses it onto the mattress beside me. When he sits back on his heels, the full length of his cock bounces up and down, the crown rosy red and glistening with moisture that I desperately want to lick off it. His dick is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Finally, he removes my bindings and slides his arms beneath me, hoisting me up and onto his lap. "Ride me, Vanessa, ride me hard."
I strap my legs around him and begin to move, rocking forward and back, wrapping my arms around his neck. He grasps my ass to help me get more leverage, and his breaths become harsh gasps. "Can't---wait---any longer."
He flips me onto my back and starts fucking me with abandon, grunting and pumping his hips wildly. When he grits his teeth, I know he's about to come---and I'm about to do it again. I jump off that cliff first, my body bowing up and my nails biting into his back.
Craig lets out a primal roar as he comes. With two more thrusts, he's done. Then he pulls out of my body and lies down beside me, breathing too hard to speak. So instead, he aims a sloppy grin at me.
I'm breathless too, so I reciprocate the sloppiness.
Who knew divorced sex could be this incredible?
Chapter Twenty
Craig
Last night. What can I say about it? Nothing that wouldn't sound moronic. Vanessa and I bonded in the most surprising ways last night, thanks to Holly's little bag of goodies. Vanessa and I had intended to try more new positions, with and without bondage, but we were too tired after the first time. Yeah, we are not teenagers anymore. We middle-aged people need a nice long break between athletic sexual encounters.
So yes, we fell asleep after wolfing down our desserts. Vanessa didn't tell me to go back to my bungalow. She cuddled up under the covers with me and draped one arm and one leg over me too. I keep needing to remind myself that wanting to cuddle doesn't mean she wants to marry me again. My mind---okay, it might actually be my heart---insists on encouraging me to believe that is what is means. I love her even more now than I did when we got married all those years ago.
But I need to take it slow. Really slow. If I rush, Vanessa might run away.
I roll my head to the side, gazing at the face of the only woman I've ever loved. She looks peaceful and sweet, younger too, as if sleep had stripped away all her anxiety and annoyance. I brush a few stray hairs away from her eyes, and that old pang hits me in the chest again.
She moans softly and wriggles against me. Then her lids flutter open. She smiles in the sweetest way. "Good morning, Craig."
"Good morning, Nessa. What should we do today?"
"Let's have sex again and figure out the rest after."
I can't help chuckling. "You've turned into a nymphomaniac, haven't you?"
She kicks my leg. "If I am, so are you."
"What should we do about that?"
"Already told you. We will fuck again."
The way she said that so matter-of-factly makes me want to hug her. I settle for kissing her forehead. "Plain vanilla or spicy?"
"What do you think?"
"Spicy it is. I had an idea last night that we didn't get around to trying." I wince. "But I can't remember what it was now."
"Ah, the vagaries of age. Why don't we go out on the patio and see what happens?"
"I love your new spontaneity."
She smiles and pushes up onto her elbow, then kisses me. "I need to pee first. Go on out to the patio, and I'll meet you there."
"Perfect."
She hops off the bed and glances back at me over her shoulder.
I turn onto my side and watch her sexy ass while she heads for the bathroom. But she closes the door, cutting off my view. Sighing, I slide off the bed and amble out onto the private patio. A temperate breeze wafts over me, bringing with it the scent of flowers, though I can't tell where that aroma originated. The resort has flowering trees and bushes, so maybe there's one of those right below the patio. A smattering of puffy little clouds wander across the deep blue sky.
