Diner

'Let's get it wet first, to help me get in.' He's pushing and rubbing his cock along my pussy with his hand, and I understand what he means, and help by moving my hips, and he takes my hand away, grips it strongly and doesn't let go, finds my other hand and takes hold of that, and holds me like that, hand in hand, while we find our rhythm. I don't want to wait much longer, so raise up a little, and pull one of my hands away from his. This time he doesn't stop me, but watches as I guide his cock into me. It's not as tight as the first time, but I still have to pause a couple of times before I can push myself all the way down, my breathing deepening as I feel myself stretch out to accommodate him. We sit still like that for a time.

'I think I'm getting used to you,' I finally say.

'I hope so,' he says, his voice low, and then he starts to push up into me, hands clamped on my hips to hold me tight onto him

'Mmm.' It's super sensitive down there, and I love his strength underneath me, inside me. I'm panting loudly. I think he is too. The headboard starts tapping against the wall, then banging against it as our pace increases. He's biting my nipples now, sucking and nibbling at them, and I'm taken over by the same unbearable release of heat as before, only this time I can feel how my muscles are contracting, squeezing on his cock. He gasps, pulls me down harder onto him, bucking his hips up against me, and I wonder if the headboard is damaging the wall. He twists my hair around his hand, yanks on it, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure. I brace myself with my arms outstretched, hands gripping the top of the bed board, and this helps me to meet his forceful thrusts with some strength of my own. He groans again, more loudly this time, still holding onto my hair, and I shift position, somehow making more room for him to go deeper into me. Then, we are both lost, together. His breathing is ragged, whistling almost.

Like a low howling? Yes, maybe.

'Dee Hernandez', he's whispering into my hair, my neck, gripping me around my waist. He drops his head onto my shoulder, and we both wait together for our heart rates to slow down, and our breathing to return to normal.

'I don't know your last name, Jim Green Eyes.'

'Begay,' he murmurs.

'Jim Begay,' I say, more to myself than to him.

He's looking at me now, head tipped back against the head board.

'If I can make you feel beautiful like this, maybe you'll be Dee Begay, one day.'

I smile, feeling like those green eyes are seeing more that just my face, my body. Maybe they can see my soul too. 'Maybe I will.' I kiss his face. 'One day.'