pulling me deeper down her throat, and I have to bite my lip and stare at the ceiling to stop myself from blowing my load too soon.
When I can’t take another second of it, I pull out of her mouth and yank her to her feet. Her jaw is dropped in confusion, and I could climax at the sight of her mussed hair and raw lips.
“I need to be inside you.” I grunt and turn her around and flatten her on my kitchen counter. I can’t look at her anymore. If I stare at her face, I’m going to fucking come in two seconds just like the first time we fucked.
In a quick maneuver, I pull a condom out of my wallet and roll it onto my wet cock before reaching around to help her get her jeans off. I pause to relish in the dainty red lace thong I tell myself she wore just for me.
I dip my hand inside her and cup her mound while sliding my finger along her slit. “You’re fucking soaked,” I growl into her ear, turning my nose into her hair to inhale her scent.
“I know,” she groans, undulating her hips against my fingers, practically begging me to touch her deeper.
I thrust a finger into her core and bite my lip at her tightness. God, she’s so fucking snug. So fucking wet. So fucking perfect. I need to be inside her.
I pull my hand out and hold her red panties to the side before crouching down to position my tip at her entrance.
Without pause, I push into her.
Hard.
“Dean.” She cries out my name and splays her hands on the counter as she tries to find something to hold on to.
“Norah,” I croak and collapse over her back, my hot breath on her shoulder blade. “Fuuuck,” I huff because my dick is going to blow any second, and I need to take a minute to get some fucking control.
She wiggles back into me and moans, begging me to move, so I man up and do what men do when they’re balls deep in the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen.
I think about my grandma or the S&P index or the sticky mess on the floor or anything and everything that isn’t how fucking great Norah’s pussy feels around my cock.
Once I’ve regained some control, I stand and pull out of her before plunging back in. “Fuck, you feel so good, Norah.”
“Oh God,” she moans and presses her forehead against the cool granite. I plunge back in and she gasps, her creamy back arching beneath my hand where I’m holding her thong to the side as it strokes over my slickened cock with every retreat.
It’s fucking glorious.
The next few moments are an animalistic blur of grunts and thrusts and cries. A haze of sweat-slickened backs and tight grips on hips. Norah’s loud and raspy voice fills my ears as she calls my name over and over. She climaxes around me within the first two minutes, but I don’t give her a second to recover. I just keep moving in and out, in and out, every stroke of her channel on my cock causing my muscles to tense more and more.
She comes again when I reach around and thumb her clit. The image of her writhing against my counter makes me feel like a fucking champion. The sight of her losing her mind tips me over the edge too, and I no longer care about giving her a twenty-minute dick.
I can’t help myself. This sex is good. Too good. And as I moan and flinch and empty myself inside her wet, slick heat, gripping her hips like a fucking lifeline, that urge I had before of never being able to get enough of her returns like a thundering stampede.
“Oh my God, Dean,” Norah groans as she extracts herself from my grip and turns her wide, sex-filled eyes to me. “Please, feel free to bend me over any surface we come upon in the near future…’cuz that…was some stress-relief sex, right there.”
I force an uneasy smile as I pull the condom off, knotting it before depositing it in the trash. “We went to all that effort to clean up, so it seemed like a good idea.”
She readjusts her red thong. “You know what would taste really good right now?”
If she says my cock, I’m going to have to break all my rules and marry this girl.
“My seven-layer strawberry cream cake,” she growls and then steps over the mess