He chuckled and kissed my inner thigh.
“Never. I want you to enjoy this, and you won’t in this position. It will feel better if you are on your hands and knees.”
I gave him a long look and slowly rolled over.
“Are you sure this is going to feel better for me and not you?”
He grabbed my hips and lifted me to my knees, apparently thinking I should be moving faster.
“This is about you, Terri.”
He ran his fingers over my slit from opening to clit and back again. It felt so good when he inserted one finger and then another. The third was a bit of a stretch, but he went slow until I was pressing back into each leisurely thrust.
“We will shower after this,” he said, removing his fingers and gripping my hip with one hand.
Then he ran his cock over my slit, slicking its length before aligning the bulbous head with my entrance. It felt like a fist pressing there for a moment. Then he grabbed my ass with both hands and started kneading it, pulling my cheeks apart and pushing them together, using the moves to open me and work his cock in.
I’d never felt anything like it. He was so big, stretching me and filling me with each impressive inch. He withdrew before he was fully seated and eased in again. Each time adding a little more until I felt his hips press against my ass.
“Do you wish me to stop?” he asked thickly.
“No, this feels nice.”
He grunted and started a slow assault. Each withdrawal teased something inside me until I clenched around him. He groaned and released a hip to tease my folds, pressing just next to my clit with each thrust.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Like that.”
His methodical pace drove me to the edge, and when I tumbled over with a soft cry, he grunted, and the hot wash of his release bathed my channel a few moments later. He didn’t stop thrusting, though, until he’d wrung every last wave of pleasure from me.
Then picked me up while he was still inside me and strode to the bathroom.