hooked beneath them to allow himself a better angle, to penetrate me more deeply. This isn’t my first time, I’m no virgin, but it’s not exactly familiar territory either. He knows it, and I know he’s spent a long, long time preparing me. But now, his initial penetration accomplished, he’s fucking me hard, offering no respite, no quarter, no further concession to my inexperience. Not that I want that, not anymore. What I’m getting is perfect. Absolutely perfect.
He’s filling me and stretching me, and my pussy is starting to clench wildly as the sensations build. Each thrust is perfectly angled, hitting that most sensitive inner spot each time, and just to make sure I get the message, he slips his hand between us to once more position his thumb over my clit. He rubs the swollen, sensitive little nub, hard, matching the rhythm to his thrusts, and my body convulses in orgasm yet again. I can do no more than hang onto his neck, my legs clasped around his waist as he fucks me into total and truly wonderful oblivion. I’ve heard of being fucked senseless and thought it was just something people said. Now I know better. Now I know what senseless really means. It means this—detachment, this total surrender to the physical, the here and now where nothing else of any importance exists. I genuinely think if the bed beneath us had caught fire I’d have simply shrugged, intending to get around to seeing to it later on. Probably. Much later.
“Come for me again, Freya. Now.”
His whispered instruction is none the less commanding, and, incredibly, I find myself obeying. The sensations, which had been subsiding—well, I think they may have been—suddenly erupt in fury once more as another storm of sensation hurls me back into this moment, shuddering, gasping and squeezing him with my inner walls as my body gives up yet another frenzied release. I’m spinning, crazily out of control, my center of gravity scrambled as my body is tossed around in the heady whirlwind. This time though, he’s with me, his own release now imminent as I climb once more to that place which has become delightfully familiar to me this evening. And as my pussy tightens and squeezes him hard before eventually relaxing, his muttered oath, more a growl than words signals his climax and I feel the warmth as his semen spurts out to fill the small sac at the end of the condom. He plunges deep, holding that position as his cock twitches, pulses and empties inside me, his arms rigid, tense, as he takes his weight and mine as I wrap myself tightly around him.
Then it’s done, and he relaxes, rolling swiftly to his side and pulling me with him so I land on top. I’m pathetically grateful for his consideration. I hadn’t expected him to collapse onto me and crush me exactly, but I did wonder…
I lie motionless on top of him, my limp body draped across Nicholas Hardisty’s lean chest and hard thighs. I’m intensely conscious of his firm, sculpted length under me, and I want to sink into him, remain part of him as he’s become a part of me. He’s still inside me, and that joining feels wonderfully intimate to me in those moments as our heart rates calm, dropping from frantic, needy thumping to a soft, sated, rhythmic pulsing. I’m in no hurry to separate from him as our bodies return to normal, this—connection—feels so right to me, and I can’t recall ever feeling so deeply contented.
Not so Mr Hardisty, it would seem, and all too soon he shifts, his palms on my hips as he gently lifts me from him. He rolls away, removing the condom and efficiently knotting the open end. He directs a brief smile at me as he slides from the bed, strolling in all his wonderfully naked glory across the room to the en suite in the corner. I hear the flush as he disposes of the condom, then re-emerges to walk back across the room. I try not to stare, honestly I do. But he is absolutely stunning. Tall, hard, all angular planes and toned, corded muscle. I have no
He’s filling me and stretching me, and my pussy is starting to clench wildly as the sensations build. Each thrust is perfectly angled, hitting that most sensitive inner spot each time, and just to make sure I get the message, he slips his hand between us to once more position his thumb over my clit. He rubs the swollen, sensitive little nub, hard, matching the rhythm to his thrusts, and my body convulses in orgasm yet again. I can do no more than hang onto his neck, my legs clasped around his waist as he fucks me into total and truly wonderful oblivion. I’ve heard of being fucked senseless and thought it was just something people said. Now I know better. Now I know what senseless really means. It means this—detachment, this total surrender to the physical, the here and now where nothing else of any importance exists. I genuinely think if the bed beneath us had caught fire I’d have simply shrugged, intending to get around to seeing to it later on. Probably. Much later.
“Come for me again, Freya. Now.”
His whispered instruction is none the less commanding, and, incredibly, I find myself obeying. The sensations, which had been subsiding—well, I think they may have been—suddenly erupt in fury once more as another storm of sensation hurls me back into this moment, shuddering, gasping and squeezing him with my inner walls as my body gives up yet another frenzied release. I’m spinning, crazily out of control, my center of gravity scrambled as my body is tossed around in the heady whirlwind. This time though, he’s with me, his own release now imminent as I climb once more to that place which has become delightfully familiar to me this evening. And as my pussy tightens and squeezes him hard before eventually relaxing, his muttered oath, more a growl than words signals his climax and I feel the warmth as his semen spurts out to fill the small sac at the end of the condom. He plunges deep, holding that position as his cock twitches, pulses and empties inside me, his arms rigid, tense, as he takes his weight and mine as I wrap myself tightly around him.
Then it’s done, and he relaxes, rolling swiftly to his side and pulling me with him so I land on top. I’m pathetically grateful for his consideration. I hadn’t expected him to collapse onto me and crush me exactly, but I did wonder…
I lie motionless on top of him, my limp body draped across Nicholas Hardisty’s lean chest and hard thighs. I’m intensely conscious of his firm, sculpted length under me, and I want to sink into him, remain part of him as he’s become a part of me. He’s still inside me, and that joining feels wonderfully intimate to me in those moments as our heart rates calm, dropping from frantic, needy thumping to a soft, sated, rhythmic pulsing. I’m in no hurry to separate from him as our bodies return to normal, this—connection—feels so right to me, and I can’t recall ever feeling so deeply contented.
Not so Mr Hardisty, it would seem, and all too soon he shifts, his palms on my hips as he gently lifts me from him. He rolls away, removing the condom and efficiently knotting the open end. He directs a brief smile at me as he slides from the bed, strolling in all his wonderfully naked glory across the room to the en suite in the corner. I hear the flush as he disposes of the condom, then re-emerges to walk back across the room. I try not to stare, honestly I do. But he is absolutely stunning. Tall, hard, all angular planes and toned, corded muscle. I have no
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