My head flung back, my eyes fluttered and I panted without shame.
Right there.
That pant turned into short high-pitched cries of pure bliss. Ettore gripped my ass so hard I knew it would leave marks. Then, suddenly, it hit me like a fucking freight train. The abrupt scream that left me turned my throat raw on the inside. My body strained as I shook through my orgasm. And Ettore drank it up with a low groan of fulfilment.
My husband let me fall forward onto the bed. I gasped through the lingering pleasure. Somewhere behind me, I heard clothing rustle and before I had even come down from my high, Ettore flipped me over, yanked me forward, lifted my legs, lined himself up and plunged forward. My face turned pained. A weak cry left me as his thick cock stretched my raw, tender pussy but when I looked up at him, I seemed to forget all about the discomfort because Ettore was naked.
Gloriously naked.
His body was something out of a fine art exhibition. Muscled and strong, he was a living sculpture and mine to revere. Expression fierce, he bit his bottom lip as he plunged in and out, fucking me mercilessly. My entire body shook with every thrust.
He liked that.
He liked it even more when he gripped my bra and yanked harshly, exposing my modest breasts. And then he thrust with even more vigor just to watch them bounce. He cupped one soft tit, pinching my nipple hard. My tight body clenched around him and Ettore hissed out, “Look at how quickly she submits. She’s so good, responding to my touch.” He gripped my thigh, digging his nails into the tender flesh, staring unflinchingly down at where our bodied met. “Every time I pull out, she tries to suck me back in. Do you see that? Do you feel it?” He looked at me then, “Do you know what that means?” I shook my head and Ettore stilled inside of me balls deep, letting go of my leg to grasp my cheeks with rough hands, pulling out faces close where he proceeded to make my heart stutter. “She’s in love.”
As screwed as it was, I thought he might be right.
He released me and my head fell flat against the mattress. He fucked me slower then, with more control, and although I wanted another orgasm, I was too sore to even attempt to reach for it. Instead, I watched him closely. I wasn’t prepared for when he suddenly yanked my legs up and over his shoulders, bending at the waist, towering over me and the new angle made everything feel tighter, which in turn made me feel fuller. My lips parted along with the feeling and when I unconsciously clenched my pussy, Ettore involuntarily bucked into me. His brow held a sheen of perspiration as he growled out, “Jesus.Fuck. Baby, you’re so fucking tight. Do that again.”
I did. My body wrapped around his, tight as a glove, and he groaned loudly. “Are you on birth control?”
“No,” I breathed erratically.
“Good,” was all he said as he thrust into me harder and faster, moving me up higher on the bed. His skin slapped loudly against my own. His gaze turned hazy, he breathed out heavily through his nostrils and then, he muttered, “You want my cum, don’t you?”
“I do,” I cried and was surprised to find I meant it.
“My little slut wants her pussy filled.”
“Yes.”
“Here it comes,” he panted roughly before pushing forward and stilling inside of my sore, abused pussy. His voice turned strained when he ordered, “Take it, bitch.”
His cock began to flex and jerk inside of my stretched hole. His face turned pained as, spurt after spurt, he came inside of me. He groaned through it, his body turning rigid. I felt the wetness seep out of me and leak downwards, coating my asshole.
Ettore threw my legs down and fell forward, collapsing onto me. He was too strong, too heavy, but I reveled in his weight. I couldn’t stop myself from draping my arms around his back and gently running my fingertips along his damp spine. His semi-hard cock still inside of me.
He accepted my touch. In fact, I could have sworn he welcomed it.
We remained like that a long while. And after the tension was gone, Ettore lifted his head from the space between my breasts and blinked sleepily. And this was the first time I had seen him without ages of tension latent on his face. My stomach twitched. Without it, he looked younger. Freer.
Unable to keep myself from him a second longer, I brought my face close to his, gently ran my nose along the length of his, then kissed his lips tenderly. He didn’t respond at first. I think he might have been surprised by the sudden show of affection. But then he wrapped an arm around me and spun, taking me with him. Now draped over his tall frame, our kisses turned slow but passionate. He snaked his arms around me and I ate as his lips as he reached down to squeeze me the cheeks of my ass.
I was floating from the feelings he inspired. Everyone in my life treated me as if I were weak. But not Ettore. He pushed me far outside my comfort zone, knowing I was strong enough to take what he gave. And just before I did something stupid like declare my endless love for him, quite suddenly, I was pushed back onto the mattress.
I felt the loss immediately. My pussy ached from it and our combined juices wept out of me like tears of mourning. I blinked at the abrupt separation and frowned gently as I watched him, naked and proud, saunter to the pile that was his clothes and begin to dress.
The silence was long and deadly. I couldn’t bear it a second longer, so I filled it with asked something I’d wished to know since I first laid eyes on him.
“How old are you?” came the hesitant question.
He pulled up his pants, buttoned and zipped them, then answered brusquely, “Thirty-seven.”
Oh. Wow. Okay then.
He wasmucholder than I thought.
I didn’t really know what else to say. I guess conversation wasn’t really Ettore’s thing either because once he shrugged on his shirt and slipped on his shoes, he held onto his jacket and tie then moved towards the open doorway.