Someone Taught Aimee Ch. 3

Easing down, he carefully turned onto his back without breaking their connection. She blinked at him, startled. He could see both the confusion and the uncertainty in her face. "Ride me, baby."

"I–" she took a deep breath. "Okay."

She moved slowly at first, rolling her hips this way and then that. Her thighs stretch obscenely around his hips and her tits swayed with her hesitant motion. He pressed his fingers between them, finding his dripping wet dick and then pulling through the distended lips until he found her clit. She froze when he gave it light rub. "J-Joe?"

"It's okay, baby, I've got you."

She didn't say anything, just held herself still for a moment. Whatever was going on in her head must have satisfied her. She started moving again, this time with sure, deliberate flicks of her hips. He teased her clit, trying to keep up with her body. She rubbed, ground, and shimmied. Her legs tensed and relaxed, squeezing him between them. She found a rhythm that made her throw her head back and give a throaty cry. She moved faster and faster, slamming herself onto him. The bed screeched beneath him, she howled above him, and the wet, sucking slaps of flesh against flesh completed the harmony.

Gritting his teeth, he held back with every bit of control he had left. He lashed at her clit, demanding her orgasm first. She gave it to him. A surge of wetness heralded the straining of her body curving backwards in an arc. He grabbed her hips in both hands, forcing her down on his dick and unloaded into her. She lifted up and ground herself into him. She was saying something, but he couldn't hear past the roaring in his ears. It didn't matter because she attached her lips to his and refused to let go.

He didn't know when he'd fallen asleep anymore than he knew what woke him up. Sometime after that mind-blowing cum, he cuddled against her and drowsed off. Speaking of her, she wasn't in the bed. He held still, breathing deep, and listened carefully. There. She was in another room. It didn't sound like either the bathroom or the kitchen. Curious, he slipped out of the bed and padded down the hall as silent as his ancestors on the war path. He paused by the door to his office and listened.

She was mumbling something to herself, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. A drawer slowly opened and he heard the rustle of paper. Then it slid shut. Another drawer was opened, riffled through, and then shut.