Help Me Rhonda

So I Say from Me to You, I Can Make Your Dreams come True

This orgasm was intense, but of short duration, and he knew, somehow, that she had more in her. And more to the point, he wasn't done with her. He held her tight through the hard spasms, jammed deeply inside her, waiting, and when the pulses began to fade, he pulled out of her completely, manipulating her body, weak from her release, until she was on her back again. Directing his cock, he drove into her, her tissues swollen from her arousal and the friction of his assault, enveloping him in her heat and tightness. It almost took his breath away, like a fist to the solar plexus. “Lock your ankles around me,” he growled. And when she did, leaving herself vulnerable, receptive with almost no recourse for refusal, he lowered himself to his elbows over her. She felt perfect to him. “Kiss me,” he demanded.

She did. “No more Pete Shanahan,” he said. She shook her head, blue eyes shining into dark brown. “No one else but me,” he stated. She nodded.

“Yes, Jack,” she said softly.

“You're mine,” he said, no longer a question.

“I'm yours.”

“Always,” he said.

“Always,” she responded. He smoothed an errant blond strand from her temple, his fingers following the cup of her ear down to her neck, where he planted a kiss. She arched and stretched, providing him access, and he complied with her unspoken request by planting his teeth in her skin, a gravely sound rising in his throat. Sam sighed, shivering with the intensity of her response to him.

The tension in his body, cock thick, hard and pulsing within her, was electric, and she was surprised to find herself aroused again so quickly after two such intense orgasms. And now he began to move, gliding out, driving in, his need urging him, her body surrounding him, beneath him, her eyes, her mouth, her neck only for him. The feel of her flesh, the silkiness of her skin, her beauty were all for him. He exulted in her body, how she tightened around him, how she received him, only him.

“Sam,” he said, pausing before thrusting into her again, “you know I love you, right?”

She smiled, putting her hand on his cheek. “Yes, Jack, I do. And you know I love you too, right?”

“I know I wouldn't be here now if you didn't,” he said, his tone wry. And looking into his eyes, so much a child, so much a man, she needed to kiss him, and so she did, hooking his neck and pulling him down, rising to meet him half-way, her tongue in his mouth, another hard, gloriously hard thrust with his cock. Sam broke the kiss to moan, as he found that place inside her which made her want to squirm, and beg him to do it again and again.

“Jack!” was all she managed to say. Somehow he got the message, because ... damn! ... if he didn't hit that spot over and over and over, his own arousal thickening as she began to squirm and rock around his cock. He reached back and hiked her leg higher on his back, changing the angle of her hips, forcing her open even further. He ran his hand down her finely stretched thigh, over the swell of her ass.

“I've always admired your six, Carter,” he said, only the slightest bit of tension in his voice betraying his casual affect. He caressed her raised buttock, his fingers curling over the soft, round flesh.

“Back atcha... sir,” she said, gracing him with an impish smile, her thigh muscle twitching with the stretch.

He looked at her startled. “You been ogling my ass?” he asked.

“Yep,” she said, her simple smile growing. “And not just your ass, Jack.”

“What?” he asked, as if scandalized and ready to be offended.

“Oh, I ogled the whole... package,” she said, emphasizing the last word. It took him a moment to process her statement. Then he gave her a look of mock outrage.

“You were looking at my dick?” he asked, going for high drama.

“Uh huh,” she said, her smile at full wattage. “I mean, how could I miss it, Big Poppa?” she asked, giving him an intimate squeeze, giggling.

He smacked her on the rump. “Naughty girl, and no giggling!” he said, a smile of his own dawning. He moved to perch above her on both elbows again. “Soooo, no disappointments?” he asked, pushing into her with a long, slow stroke.

She sighed. “No, Jack,” she said, “no disappointments.” She ran her fingernails through the short silver hair at the nape of his neck. “You?”

He hesitated, and for the briefest of moments she worried what he might say. “Sam, you are more beautiful than I imagined.” He looked at her face seriously and then lowered his forehead to the crook of her neck. “And I imagined a lot,” he said with a short bark of a laugh.

She stroked his hair. “Me too,” she said softly, craning her neck to kiss his cheek.

He rose to look at her. “Are you saying you used to think about me when you ... you know...” He tried to imagine Sam masturbating, fingers buried between her thighs. It gave him ideas for later. He thrust into her again, harder this time.

“All the time... every time,” she said, breathlessly, only a little pink with embarrassment, or maybe arousal, he wasn't sure. All he knew was she was hot... really, really hot, and he couldn't believe that he was here with her, his dick buried in her, and she loved him as much as he loved her and ... well, he was a lucky, lucky man. He leaned down to kiss her, trying to say with his lips and tongue what he could hardly say with words, even if he tried, all his love, his respect, his desire, his need, his gratitude... And it must have worked, because the look she gave him, when he rose from her mouth, told him everything right back. It made his old heart sing.

And his cock swell, and now there was no going back. He moved into a strong, steady rhythm, slow, even, long strokes in and out of her, making sure she made that sound, that whimper-sigh, with each bump. He watched in amazement as her eyes rolled back, her mouth dropped open and she began to pant. Beyond hot, he thought.

And with each thrust she was getting tighter, wetter, even as he was nearing the point of no return. He knew his rhythm was going to hell, when she began to tremble, her fingers almost claws in his arms, her back arching. And then, within her, It was a frenzy, her muscles twitching, the spasms firing in rapid succession, clutching at him, vibrating along his length, a shock wave of release, which beckoned his own.

He watched her skin flush, her brows knit, a grimace of pain, a cry of intense pleasure. She was glorious in orgasm, and he wished he could save this moment somehow, replay it, pausing to catch every nuance, but his own release was catching up with him and before he was ready, an intense bolt of energy, a crackling charge of sexual force slammed through him, shutting down anything within him that wasn't the explosive, convulsive expulsion of his seed within her. Behind his eyes, everything seemed to dissolve in a halo of white light.