. that's it . . .” I moan as his hips begin to slap into mine, his cock hard and long, lighting every nerve inside me on fire. He's pressed on top of me, his strong body pushing me into the sandy grass, and I'm in heaven, my legs wrapped around him and in a place I've never, ever felt before.
His groans are music to my ears, and I urge him faster, begging him in wordless gasps to take me, to make me his forever. He thrusts harder and faster, pushing my body to places it's never been before, pleasure and ecstasy and amazing fireworks shooting through my entire body. Suddenly, he stops, and I look at him, confused. “What are you doing? I was so close.”
“It ripped,” he says, looking down.
“Who cares? Finish!” I beg him, not caring. I'm over forty now. My time is probably up anyway.
He looks at me for a second and then continues his onslaught with fast, full strokes.
I can tell that he’s on the verge too, and I feel him tremble, his cock swelling inside me. I clutch at his back, pulling him in tighter.
Cory grunts and gasps, and I explode, my body tightening around him before time stops and I'm caught in the throes of my orgasm. It's never been this good, this perfect, and I want to stay here forever as Cory thrusts one last time.
His cock erupts, and time starts again just as I’m able to hear him cry out. I hold on as he quivers and quakes before collapsing on top of me, still careful to not crush me underneath his powerful body. I keep my legs wrapped around him, savoring each precious second of him inside me and the feeling of his arms holding me closely.
It's well after midnight when Cory walks me back to my bungalow, my dress kind of smoothed out, his suit . . . not so much. “Thank you for a wonderful evening,” I say, pausing at the door and wrapping my arms around his neck. We kiss again, and it's just as wonderful as the first one. “So will I see you for breakfast?”
Cory nods and pulls me close. He starts to speak before words fail him. I know what he wants to say, though, and he doesn't need to explain. We kiss one last time, and he steps back. “I'll see you at breakfast.”
He waits while I open the door to my bungalow and go inside, and after the door closes, I hear his footsteps on the concrete path, and I go to bed, feeling that I may be falling in love.
* * *
I wake up to the sound of knocking on my door, and I stretch, my body sore but in a pleasant way that I've never felt before. Glancing over, I'm surprised to see that it's nearly ten in the morning, but before I can panic, I remember that I'm on vacation. I'm allowed to sleep in.
The knocking comes again, and I get up, pulling the light cotton robe I'm using in the tropical warmth over my shoulders. I see a note under my door, and I pick it up before I open the door to find Whitney standing there, looking excited, concerned, and happy in a bikini top and some linen shorts. “Mom?”
“Whitney, come in,” I reply, stepping back. “Have a seat.”
I go back to the bedroom and drop my robe, opening the note. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the name at the bottom isn't, and I smile as I re-read it.
Dear Patricia,
I woke up this morning, and the only thing that could have made things better was if you'd have been there in my arms.
I was going to come in and wake you up, but Whitney is giving me a few looks over breakfast as I write this, and I think you and her need to have a little talk. In the meantime, I'm going to go for a jog with Troy, and we can catch up this afternoon.
Last night did happen, didn't it?
Yours always,
Cory
* * *
I fold the note and put it on my pillow. Going over to my suitcase, I take out my own swimsuit, nowhere near as sexy as Whitney's bikini, but then again, I hadn't planned on wanting to look sexy. I pull it on and then add my own shorts, and I run a quick brush through my hair after brushing my teeth.
I come back out into the bungalow's living room to see Whitney nearly hopping
His groans are music to my ears, and I urge him faster, begging him in wordless gasps to take me, to make me his forever. He thrusts harder and faster, pushing my body to places it's never been before, pleasure and ecstasy and amazing fireworks shooting through my entire body. Suddenly, he stops, and I look at him, confused. “What are you doing? I was so close.”
“It ripped,” he says, looking down.
“Who cares? Finish!” I beg him, not caring. I'm over forty now. My time is probably up anyway.
He looks at me for a second and then continues his onslaught with fast, full strokes.
I can tell that he’s on the verge too, and I feel him tremble, his cock swelling inside me. I clutch at his back, pulling him in tighter.
Cory grunts and gasps, and I explode, my body tightening around him before time stops and I'm caught in the throes of my orgasm. It's never been this good, this perfect, and I want to stay here forever as Cory thrusts one last time.
His cock erupts, and time starts again just as I’m able to hear him cry out. I hold on as he quivers and quakes before collapsing on top of me, still careful to not crush me underneath his powerful body. I keep my legs wrapped around him, savoring each precious second of him inside me and the feeling of his arms holding me closely.
It's well after midnight when Cory walks me back to my bungalow, my dress kind of smoothed out, his suit . . . not so much. “Thank you for a wonderful evening,” I say, pausing at the door and wrapping my arms around his neck. We kiss again, and it's just as wonderful as the first one. “So will I see you for breakfast?”
Cory nods and pulls me close. He starts to speak before words fail him. I know what he wants to say, though, and he doesn't need to explain. We kiss one last time, and he steps back. “I'll see you at breakfast.”
He waits while I open the door to my bungalow and go inside, and after the door closes, I hear his footsteps on the concrete path, and I go to bed, feeling that I may be falling in love.
* * *
I wake up to the sound of knocking on my door, and I stretch, my body sore but in a pleasant way that I've never felt before. Glancing over, I'm surprised to see that it's nearly ten in the morning, but before I can panic, I remember that I'm on vacation. I'm allowed to sleep in.
The knocking comes again, and I get up, pulling the light cotton robe I'm using in the tropical warmth over my shoulders. I see a note under my door, and I pick it up before I open the door to find Whitney standing there, looking excited, concerned, and happy in a bikini top and some linen shorts. “Mom?”
“Whitney, come in,” I reply, stepping back. “Have a seat.”
I go back to the bedroom and drop my robe, opening the note. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the name at the bottom isn't, and I smile as I re-read it.
Dear Patricia,
I woke up this morning, and the only thing that could have made things better was if you'd have been there in my arms.
I was going to come in and wake you up, but Whitney is giving me a few looks over breakfast as I write this, and I think you and her need to have a little talk. In the meantime, I'm going to go for a jog with Troy, and we can catch up this afternoon.
Last night did happen, didn't it?
Yours always,
Cory
* * *
I fold the note and put it on my pillow. Going over to my suitcase, I take out my own swimsuit, nowhere near as sexy as Whitney's bikini, but then again, I hadn't planned on wanting to look sexy. I pull it on and then add my own shorts, and I run a quick brush through my hair after brushing my teeth.
I come back out into the bungalow's living room to see Whitney nearly hopping
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