to convince Jonathan to host in the fall, because hello, black lace! The next dress was a skeleton-bride ball gown with artfully ripped lace and satin skirt, complete with a veil.
Might be my wedding dress. The third though…
“I thought this one was a little bit Christmas, a little bit Halloween,” he said as I pulled it off the rack and held it up.
It was a white dress—not pure, virginal white but that gothic New Orleans creamy white lace. Instead of flowers, the lace pattern was snowflakes. I slid it on. The dress stopped at knee length then had a layer of gauzy tendrils that fluttered as I walked.
“Gorgeous,” I said, salivating.
“I must admit, I did bring you in here for something else,” Jonathan whispered. He pressed his bulge against me. After the evening I had had, stress relief in the form of sex sounded like a very good idea.
I scrambled to take the dress off before Jonathan ripped it. I tugged off my tights as he shrugged off his suit. He grabbed my ass, pulling me toward him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He pressed his face to my hot pussy, teasing me with his tongue.
I thrust back against him as his tongue circled around my clit and down to my opening. He went back to teasing my clit while he slipped one finger, two fingers into me and curled them. I moaned loudly, and Jonathan gave a muffled laugh.
I heard a condom packet rip. Then he grabbed my hips, angling me toward his cock. He brought himself toward my tight, hot pussy, ready to take me. His hands on my hips, he began to penetrate me slowly.
It was so damn intense. Every hard, thick inch of him spread me apart. I sank down on his cock, taking all of him. Large hands digging into my hips, he easily lifted me up then back down onto his cock at a better angle.
It was like a damn tsunami with his cock sliding out and pushing into me. My entire body was shuddering from the immense friction inside me, the whole act hitting some deep nerve, making this all too blissful. Was this what people meant when they said the G-spot?
Something about what Jonathan was doing was hitting me just right, and I was soon moaning and cooing in enjoyment.
I heard the smile as he said in that deep voice, “I love how you spread your legs from me, your pussy begging for my cock.”
He lifted me up again and then pulled me back on his cock, harder this time, making me cry out from the pleasure of the friction.
“Yes,” I moaned. “Take me harder. Take me faster. Make me come.”
Jonathan didn’t need that much encouragement to go all the way, to give me anything and everything that I wanted. He started to fuck me hard and fast, his cock slamming up into me.
The pressure inside me was growing into an even more incredible wad of ecstasy. I didn’t have anything to grab, so I let my hands roam over my body and pinch my tits.
“Damn,” Jonathan purred. “I need to fuck you like this in front of a mirror next time.”
I couldn’t answer, because all of it was coming at me, too much, too fast. But I was holding on, ready to ride it out, ready to savor the feeling. When it hit, goddamn did it hit me—all the intensity of the moment tore through me, every bit of my being igniting.
Jonathan thrust up into me once more, then his cock throbbed within me.
After it was over, he dragged us back onto the bed. I lay panting in his arms as he pressed kisses to my forehead.
I wish I could stay with him forever.
60
Jonathan
I dozed next to Morticia on the bed. If this was going to be our life forever, I had no complaints. “So,” I asked her, “are you going to take the job offer?”
“What?” she murmured.
“My job offer to work with me on Hamilton Yards or marketing or whatever you want?”
“Uh—”
“Come on,” I begged, “say yes! All I want is to spend every minute with my girlfriend.”
“Every minute?”
“Okay, so sometimes we’re going to be working, but at least a good chunk of every day.” I pressed kisses along her neck.
“I’ll think about it,” she said with a sigh.
“Strongly think about it,” I cajoled. “You don’t have anything else planned, do you? Of course, if you have art projects planned, then you can totally do those.