Lazy Afternoon III

He had to be inside her. He had to feel her around him, warm and soft, tight and slick. He needed to bury his need in her again and again, and cum in her, feel her cum around him.

He wasn’t going to last long, but that didn’t matter. Getting his cock into her, that was. Filling her up and making her cry out in pleasure, that was.

He lay her back on the floor of her living room carefully, trying not to rush even though he wanted to do just that. The wait was agonizing, but he wouldn’t hurt her in his eagerness, wouldn’t take her without making sure she was comfortable first.

It was the least he could do in apology for the brevity of what was to come.

Bowing over her, he kissed her as softly as he could manage, whispering into her his apologies, explaining why.

“I know,” she panted in reply, making him want her impossibly more.

Her hands helped him strip off his shirt, then push down his sweat pants and boxers. He wouldn’t let her touch his cock, though, knowing he wouldn’t make it if she did. He’d cum all over her belly if he felt so much as brush of her fingertip, and he needed to be in her.

Frak, if he made it at least ten seconds once he was in her, he’d be frakking happy.

His body shuddering with need, he positioned himself to slide into her. She touched his face and he looked up at her.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, smiling at him. “Do what you need to do.”

Clemency. It rattled him to his bones and broke his restraint. He pushed inside her with a groan, thrilled at hearing her moan, at seeing her arch under him, the elegant bow of her neck, the flush on her cheeks. He touched her, caressing the side of her face, hand sliding down, along her throat, smoothing to her breasts, down to her belly.

A hand splayed just above her pussy, he lifted his hips and searched her, making her gasp. It was all he could manage before he had to thrust, and he did, hard and fast. There was no finesse. There was no thinking of prolonging pleasure for either of them. There was just blind need, an ache that had to be soothed, that would only be soothed with by the gliding friction of her tight clasp as he pumped it.

He did, only vaguely aware of her hands on him, caressing his face, raking through his hair, sliding down over his chest. He barely registered the rise of her legs against his side. All he knew was the hot softness around him, the intense pleasure of being where he was wanted and where he wanted to be.

It was good. Too good. He was cumming, hard, hips bucking into hers as his cock jerked with heavy spurts inside her, filling her. He groaned at the sensation, at the feel of her hands holding his face, thumbs moving against his cheeks gently, in soothing counter to the harshness of the shudders that shook his body.

She welcomed him when the madness dissipated, arms wrapping around him as he lowered. Her kisses were gentle, rained over his brow, his neck and shoulder. Her hands smoothed over his back, up and down, up and down, until his breathing eased.

Bill eased a hand up, caressed her face tenderly, slowly, mouth seeking and finding hers. His kisses were gentle, lingering. He met her gaze and smiled at seeing her smiling.

“Better?” she asked, her voice breathy soft.

He nodded, kissed her again. “Sorry it wasn’t very good for you.”

“Who says it wasn’t good for me?” she countered lips melding with his in a series of soft smacks.

Bill smiled when he looked at her again, but shut his eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit him.

“Sleepy?”

He hated to admit it but, “Yeah.”

She didn’t seem offended. He forced his eyes open to find her still smiling, the accompany expression one of understanding. “Couch or bed?” she asked.

He smiled, touched his lips to hers again. “Couch is fine,” he murmured. He waited a few moments then shifted and slid out of her, groaning at the sensation and the loss of her warmth.

Her hands cradled his face. “You okay?”

He nodded, rose up onto his knees, winced when they both popped. Still, he grinned when he looked down at the beautiful woman splayed before him. “I’m too damned old to be frakking in the floor,” he told her, his hands coming to rest on her thighs. He gave them a squeeze, stroked her from hip to knee and back again, “But you’re frakkin’ amazing.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, her expression infinitely soft, the kind that made a man proud and humble all at once.

“Thank you,” he countered then extended his hands to her. He pulled her up into a sitting position then slowly eased to his feet. He wobbled embarrassingly, but she didn’t laugh or make jokes, just leaned forward and kissed each of his knees as he gained his balance, then ordered, “Go lay down.”

He obeyed, but paused before sitting. He was a sweaty mess and her couch leather. Thankfully, she comprehended his predicament, handed him a throw blanket. He spread it out and lay heavily onto the comfortable cushions with a sigh.

He fell asleep immediately. He must have because next thing he knew he was jolting awake at the feel of something warm and wet moving over chest.

“Easy. Go back to sleep.”

Despite the gentle reassurances, he forced his eyelids open and saw Laura perched beside him, her hair pulled back. Her hand held a wet cloth, which she was moving over his skin.

“You don’t have to do that,” he murmured.

Her answering smile was enigmatic. “I know,” she replied then proceeded to clean his chest and sides, his neck and arms, his under arms. She left him a moment returned with two clothes, one warm, which she used to wash his legs and feet, then, his flaccid cock, lifting it gently from his thigh and carefully clearing away the remnants of their coupling. When she was done, she leaned over him with the cool cloth and smoothed it over his face.

It felt good, the warmth and coolness, the personal attention and caring after so many years of nothing. He closed his eyes against the wetness gathering in his vision, blindly caught her hand with his own, brought it to his mouth where he touched his lips to her wrist and murmured his thanks.

Gentle fingers slipped through his hair, brushed across his brow. Even gentler lips touched the corner of his eye then dipped down to his ear.

“Sleep, Bill.”

He slept, lulled by the continued caress of her hand and cloth, and the gentle fall and rumble of rain outside.

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