The Only Way I Could Lose It

I opened the door wider and leaned out more, intently watching them, my eyes moving from watching his head moving between her firm luscious thighs on his back to her chest rising and falling, her breasts pushing hard against that tight pink shirt, her nipples sticking out hard, her smooth tanned hips barely visible with her bunched up skirt moving with his tongue and hands, and her face seemingly stuck between confusion and ecstasy. Her arms dangled from the arm rest at either side of her head, her fingers trying to grab at her long hair draped over the armrest and down the side of the couch.

Then, Russel suddenly stopped, sat up, let her legs slide down, and sat back on the couch. He looked at her, laying there completely exposed, and stroked his already erect cock.

"You want me now, girl?" he asked.

"No," she murmured and shook her head.

"No?" he asked with a grin. "You feel like you're ready?"

"Yes," she said and licked her lips, her eyes fluttering open before closing again.

I didn't know if she was asleep and dreaming or just too out of it to know what was going on.

Russel sat up, leaned over her, and slid his hands up her hips to her stomach, slipping under her shirt until he cupped her breasts. He laid his hips down between her legs and ground into her as he rubbed her breasts.

"No," she whispered and shook her head slowly, even as her hips churned beneath him.

Russel grinned and then bent down to kiss her hard. Her mouth opened a bit, either forced open by his mouth or kissing him back. He put one arm under her head and kissed her deeply as he moved his hips against her, rubbing his cock against her hips and pussy, his other hand pulling at her breasts, tweaking her nipples.

"You want it?" he said into her mouth.

She only moaned back, either a protest or acceptance, possibly neither.

He sat back up and pulled his shirt off, making me cringe. His extremely athletic physique intimidated me and made me realize once again why it was him on the couch with her and not me. His chest, stomach, and arms looked to be chiseled out of granite, hard and bulging from his skin. Girls dreamt of running their fingers over a body like that. He picked his pants off the floor and pulled a condom wrapper out of the pocket. He ripped open the package and then rolled the condom down his cock.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him, her head falling to the couch cushion, leaving her arms and hair dangling over the armrest. He pushed her legs apart, one foot falling to the floor and her other foot resting on the couch, her knee pointed in the air and pressed against the back of the couch. He climbed over her, bringing his body down to hers, his hands on either side of her, and hovered over her, his cock between her thighs pointed down and towards her. He looked down into her face, her eyes closed, lips parted and breathing deeply.

"I wasn't planning on doing this with you tonight, but damn you were just all over me," he said, surprising me. Why else would he hook up with her and bring her here if not to have sex with her?

He reached down between their bodies, holding himself over her with one muscled arm. He grabbed his cock and rubbed the tip over her pussy, between her labia, spreading her wetness.

"No," she sighed and shook her head once slowly. She lifted one arm and pressed it weakly against his shoulder. Then she sighed and arched her back as he started rubbing the underside of his penis over her clit, stroking it back and forth, his hand holding it in place.

"I know you like that," he said, smiling to himself.

Her hand slid down his shoulder and grabbed his upper arm, feeling the muscles bulging from holding himself over her. He moved his hips back and forth slowly, rubbing against her clit, and she raised her hips up to meet him, to rub back against him. Russel moved his hand down further between her legs and she let out a soft cry when he inserted a finger into her.

"You're definitely wet and ready, girl," he said.

"No," she said again, her hips turned up towards him and her hand grabbing his arm tightly.

The couch squeaked as Russel's knees pressed into it and he scooted back, lowering his hips to hers, grabbing his penis and directing it towards her. I stared at the small space between their hips where his body seemed to already be joined to hers and looked up their bodies, her denim skirt bunched up on her hips, her chest rising and falling heavily, her shirt pushed up over her breasts, her head turned to the side. Then I looked to his face which was turned towards me, seeming to be looking right at me. I looked into his eyes and was still, my hand clutching the doorknob, wanting to slam the door shut in case he saw me, but knowing the movement would alert him. Then, he turned away from me and looked down between their bodies. If he had seen me, then he hadn't shown it.

He moved his hips forward and down, the shaft of his penis disappearing behind her hip and thigh and I could tell from his groan that he'd penetrated her. She squealed softly, a confused frown on her face, and pushed against his arm. He held the root of his cock in his fingers and moved his hips back and forth in small motions, pushing into her slowly and smoothly.

"Nooo...," she said and pushed her hand against his shoulder hard.

Russel leaned forward, forcing her to bend her arm, and then jabbed his hips forward, shoving himself into her, grunting loudly, as she whimpered and arched her back. He brought his arm up from between their bodies, grabbed her wrist, and pinned her arm down to the couch. She used her other arm to push him back and he grabbed it and pinned it down too, now holding both her hands down on either side of her head. She struggled against him weakly, arching her back, pulling at her arms. She lifted her legs, her boots knocking futily against his legs and hips. Her elbows pointed into the air as she tried to free her wrists from his hands. He held himself over her, his arms straight, his back arched, his pelvis pressed against her writhing hips. She lifted her legs up on either side of him, her thighs pressing against his waist, either trying to pull him down onto her or stop him from going further and I could see the shaft of his penis sunk into her pussy, only an inch or two still waiting to enter her, his pubic hair brushing against her. He held himself still, not moving, just holding her down, letting her push against him and struggle, her body squirming around his engorged cock.

He moaned as she bucked her hips, her boots pressed to his butt, making his cock move out of her some then sink down to its full depth. She cried out and shook her head, her eyes closed tightly, her hair whipping to the side.

"No," she said again softly, then lay still beneath him, her face turned to the back of the couch, her thighs still gripping him and her feet laying on top of his thighs.

"That's it," Russel groaned as he started moving his hips in short slow thrusts, pushing himself into her, pressing her hips down into the couch, then pulling back just enough for the couch to lift her body, then pushing down and into her again.

I watched just a couple of inches of the root of his cock moving in and out of her, her pussy seeming to cling to him, and I felt I was painfully hard and shifted my erection in my underwear and pants so it was pointing up and I could trace my finger up and down the sensitive underside of my penis through my clothes.

Russel started fucking her faster, making the old couch springs squeak loudly compressed by his thrusts then rebounding back as he raised his hips, creating a clockwork machine of squeaking springs and pumping flesh. She lay still beneath him, her hands still pinned down as he held himself over her, her face turned away, her legs still gripping his waist, seeming to urge him on, like the upper half of her body was passive to his thrusting while her lower half was coiled beneath him and around him, pulling him in to her.

My erection was so hard it strained against my clothes and I kept rubbing it harder, tracing the outline through my pants. I frantically unzipped my pants and pulled my penis out, sighing at the relief from the pressure, and encircled it with my hand, stroking and rubbing as I watched Russel intently.

He dropped a foot onto the ground, giving him leverage as he started really pumping in and out of her, lifting his body off of her and curling his hips, plowing into her in long hard thrusts, shoving her body limply back and forth on the couch. He drew his other knee up on the couch, trying to really shove into her. She made low soft grunts, barely audible to me from where I stood hiding in the doorway. With his body hunched over her, she tried to lift her arms and he shoved them back down. She squirmed one last time and then lay still beneath him, her face turned to gaze up over his head, shaking with his powerful thrusts.

Her boots lay placidly on his hard pumping butt, her bare thighs clenching his sides and waist. I could see the length of his cock sliding from her and entering her again and again. His head was turned down, watching their bodies, watching his own toned and muscled body flexing and clenching, coiling and uncoiling as he thrust his hips back and forth, watching himself sliding in and out of her.

I grabbed my penis in my hand and pumped it vigorously, feeling so much harder than ever before, and surprisingly hot. I stopped stroking it and just held it tightly in my fist, squeezing it until the head felt swollen to double its normal size.

"You are fuckin' hot," Russel suddenly said in a panting breath.

He was looking down at her body laid beneath him, jostling with his strong thrusts, and he was right. She was incredibly hot. Her shirt was pushed up baring her flat stomach undulating as her hips were pushed back and forth by his thrusting hips. Her breasts rocked in firm circles inside of her shirt, her cleavage threatening to burst out of the top, her nipples poking hard through the material. Her toned legs were curled against his waist, her denim skirt bunched around her hips, and her taut butt squirming as he crashed into her again and again.

"If it wasn't for those few beers I'd have come already," he panted and chuckled to himself.

I thought to myself that I'd have surely come already if I was him. I corrected myself knowing I would never be him. That would never be me on top of her, inside of her. I would never be that lucky.

"Whew," Russel sighed and stopped, leaving his cock halfway inside of her. He panted for breath and sat up, still holding her wrists and lifting her arms with him. Her arms were limp in his grip and she lay still beneath him, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He sat there for a bit, looking at her, admiring his dick inside of her. He moved his hips in a couple of short quick thrusts, watching it move in and out of her. He dropped one of her arms to the side and wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. Her arm lay there limp. Then, her legs slid down, one foot falling to the floor with her knee laying to the side, and her other foot on the couch with her knee in the air against the back of the couch. Her head fell to the side, almost facing me, her eyes closed and lips parted.

Russel looked down at her, watching her. He let her other arm fall off the side of the couch limply. He grabbed her bare waist with his hands and slid them up and down the nude skin of her stomach, waist, and sides.

"You passing out on me, girl?" he asked.

There was no reply.

He slid his hands up her body and grabbed her breasts through her shirt. He fondled them and squeezed them hard. She gave no response. He slid his hands under her shirt and did the same but harder and she didn't even twitch.

"Guess you took too many of them pills," he said.

He pushed her shirt up over her breasts and they came bouncing out, making me sigh loud enough that I immediately covered my mouth with my free hand, watching Russel to see if he heard me. He didn't look to me at all, too engrossed in the site of those large, round, firm tits. His hands were cupping them underneath, barely holding them, letting their weight lay in his hands.

"Goddamn," he sighed, and I had to agree with him again. Her breasts were round and firm, two large mounds of soft flesh with small pink hard nipples.

He massaged them, one in each hand, squeezing them individually then pressing them together, getting rougher as his fingers dug into the soft flesh. He started moving his hips again, his cock entirely inside of her and just stroking deep within her, the couch sighing beneath his slow manipulations. Her nipples were soft pink protrusions on large tanned mounds, pointing up hard and rigid, and I licked my lips imagining licking them and sucking on them. As if hearing my thoughts, Russel did just that. He dove down grabbing one breast in a wide open mouth, sucking it in, then letting it go to bounce back into his hand. He did the same to the other breast, then pressed his face between them and mashed them to his face with his hands. He made some deep groans and jabbed his cock into her, breathing in the scent between those luscious breasts.

I imagined myself between those breasts like that, smelling her, licking sweat from her warm flesh, and felt my cock surge in my deathlike grip. Precum dribbled onto my fingers and I wiped my hand on my pants.

Russel suddenly sat up and grabbed her legs, lifting them up as if they weighed nothing to him. He put her boots on his shoulders and then leaned over her, putting his hands on either side of her shoulders, his hands gripping the sides of the couch cushion. Her knees fell almost to her chest and he pressed his arms in tightly, holding her legs on his shoulders. He brought both legs onto the couch and pressed his knees into the cushion, his hips now pressed down tightly to her hips and butt.

"You need a hard fucking, girl," he said and then delivered.

He started fucking her really hard. First he raised his hips up and then smashed them down hard once, adjusted his hips and legs, getting maximum penetration, then started really hammering her, pounding in and out of her, lifting almost the full length of his thick long member from her then plunging it down into her, ramming into her, slamming his hips down onto her butt. He started panting immediately at the fast pace, joined by the loud smack of his skin against hers and the loud squeaking of the rigid couch springs. His body was a tight line from shoulders to butt, straining muscles clenching and pulsing, as he lifted his hips and shoved them back down. His feet pressed against the couch arm, his knees dug into the couch cushion, searching for something to push against to push back into her.

Her body was shoved down and sprang back up again and again. Her breasts rocked and swayed. Her head shook with the rough jostling, jammed against the other couch arm, her hair spilled across her face. Her boots stuck straight up in the air over his head, the high pointed heels pointing to the ceiling. Her butt was pressed into the couch with each thrust, his hips pressed down on her tightly, her knees bouncing up and down, brushing against her breasts.

I started pumping my hard erection in a tight grip, my eyes moving from the cock plunging in and out of her, to the different parts of her body shaking with the hard fucking. I looked at her face to see if she would waken, but there was no acknowledgement of the powerful fucking her body was taking. Her eyes were closed. The only signs that she might be feeling it, and enjoying it, were the soft moans coming from her parted lips and the wetness seeping from her pussy, coating his thrusting cock.

"Fuck, you are tight, girl," he panted.

Sweat dripped from his face and onto her chest. He seemed like he was so close to coming already and trying to push himself towards it. His whole body was tensed, muscles flexing hard, slamming in and out of her at a hectic rhythm like he was pushing himself to a hard-fought orgasm. His hands gripped the sides of the couch cushion tightly, his arm muscles bulging, holding himself over her, holding them both on the couch. Her body had been shoved forward, twisting her head against the couch arm. Her boots shook and shivered in the air to the rhythm of his hard thrusting.

I stroked myself harder and faster, feeling like I had never been so hard, so hard it hurt, so hard I needed to come to relieve the pressure. I watched Russel's butt flexing and releasing as his cock plunged in and out of her, her body taking him in limply, shaking and shivering, bouncing and relaxing. I watched her tits jerking back and forth, her nipples hard and swollen. I watched her perfect ass turned up beneath him, his hips smacking into her again and again. I watched her legs bent to her chest and laying on his shoulders firm and tense, locked against his body with his straining arms. I took it all in, the sounds of his panting, the slapping of their skin, the couch protesting, the squeaking now joined by a creaking of wood bending and flexing. Just as my stroking reached its inevitable climax my eyes were drawn to the sight of his cock sliding in and out of her, the head almost coming into view before descending deep into her, entirely inside of her, his hips crashing into her, and then being drawn out of her again, her pussy clinging to it, and my body stiffened as I came, gripping the head tightly and jerking the sensitive skin underneath, ejaculating my semen onto the wall and doorframe in front of me. I tried to stifle my grunts as my vision went blurry, still watching him moving in and out of her, jerking my come out of me, spurt after spurt. I had never ejaculated so hard and felt my legs go rubbery and limp and placed my other hand against the doorframe to keep my balance, still forcing myself to watch them and jerking on my spasming cock.

By the time I had spent my last and was feeling depleted but stable, Russel grunted and snapped his hips hard.

"Here it comes, girl," he yelled.

He fucked her faster and harder for several strokes, then threw his head back and cried out as his orgasm finally flooded over him. His hips snapped forward and back in hard jerks, smacking skin against skin, still moving in those long thrusts, pulling far out of her then jamming into her as he spilled his seed into the condom. His arms shuddered and shook, the biceps bulging, veins popping out, then he collapsed onto her, his arms wrapping around her legs, letting them slide to his sides, but holding them up against his side, his head falling beside hers, as he jammed into her in short hard jabs, his butt clenching and unclenching, shoving himself as deep into her as he could. Eventually his thrusting slowed then stopped all together as he lay panting on top of her, her feet in the air, her arm laying limply off the couch, still passed out beneath him.

I quietly turned away from the door and grabbed a bath towel out of the closet. I wiped off my hand and flaccid cock, then wiped off the door jam and wall in the dark, hoping I was cleaning up my mess, watching Russel through the partially open door. When I closed the door he was still laying on top of her, grinding his hips in slow circles, regaining his breath.

I took off all of my clothes, put on a pair of fresh underwear and a t-shirt, and climbed into bed. I lay there wide awake staring at the ceiling, picturing the scene I had just watched, watching it again and again in my mind until I finally fell asleep.

Eventually I woke up from a fitful sleep. It was still dark. I had an erection and really needed to urinate. I lay there for a while, considering if I should masturbate to relieve myself of the erection, my mind still flooded with images of Russel pounding her passed out body. But I decided I couldn't wait and had to go to the bathroom.