I wish it was possible to record memories, or events, to replay later. I wish I could keep forever fresh the sensation of Connor’s penis slipping into me, parting me, filling me so perfectly that I slumped forward, moaning, thrashing as his balls pressed against me.
He held me, held me tight against him, piercing me, pressing against me, letting me whimper, squirm, and slowly catch breath on his chest. Then he kissed me, and as he kissed me he slipped back and thrust into me, holding me, muffling the incoherent sounds that I seemed to utter without any capacity to stop them. Every thrust he gave felt like it turned me inside out; I whimpered into his chest, eyes squeezed shut in delight at the feel of him in me; so hard, so deep, girth enough to stretch me without hurting me. His hands, squeezing the cheeks of my bum and rising from there to cup my hips as he forced me down onto him, burying himself as deeply into me as he possibly could.
The ridges of his cock slipped in and out of the tight ring of my entrance; the heat of his trunk first warmed then overheated me, and the way his sweat-slicked belly pressed and drove against my thighs and mons was sublime. I loved the way he clasped me to him, let me go, tucked my head into his neck and started to drive in and out of me like a raging beast, under me. My clit was on fire, my belly aching, and I moaned and clawed at him.
“Ceri,” he panted. “Ceri, gonna…”
“Come… Connor… come for… me” I hissed.
“Can’t… stop…”
“Don’t… you… dare… stop…”
I felt his pace increase, and I bit down on my lip. Then he arched under me, lifting me, crushing me to him – he gave one last incredible thrust, bottoming out in me, his balls tight against me, and as I felt him start to come in me I let out a shivery moan of need.
“Oh… oh… oh…” I moaned – he gave another thrust, and another. The head of his cock felt like it would burst out of my belly; it was incredible, he was incredible, his penis was perfect, he filled me totally, and as he tightened his grip on my waist to try to get deeper my clit ground against the base of his cock. I gasped, shuddered, pushed down hard, and, grinding against him, felt the precursor, the brief pause and the almost immediate arrival of yet another cataclysmic orgasm.
.:.
“Wow,” he panted, and I shivered as his stubble tickled my shoulder and neck. His still-firm penis throbbed in me and I took a shuddering breath.
“You liked that?”
“I loved it. It was… it was biblical.”
“My pussy certainly feels like the day of Judgement has arrived…”
“My cock is likely deceased.”
“It feels alive to me,” I teased him as I squeezed my pelvic floor muscles and by extension him.
“Oh… oh god, that’s amazing.”
I laughed, pushed myself up, ground down on him, and squeezed again. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you.”
“Oh… uh… ungh…”
I felt him throb… moaning, I squeezed again, and then, slowly, finger to my clit, I started to grind, to gyrate on him. The quiet grunts he let out were intoxicating; his eyes rolled back into his head, his mouth slack, open. I was in control, I owned him, I had the power, and I fucked and ground his penis in me and dropped my hand downwards so that I could fondle his shaft where he disappeared between my soaked, sticky lips.
“Connor,” I moaned. “Connor…”
“Cer… i…”
I rose up onto my haunches, and then let myself fall, impaling myself on him; and he arched, his thighs pressing hard against my bum, spreading me.
“Gonna… roger… you… silly…”
“Ceri… Jesus… fuck…”
I ground hard against him in circles, gasping, sweat beading my skin and dripping down off my breasts. Connor reached up, cupping my breasts, squeezing them, and then I felt his hands spasm and his body buck and I laughed, exultant, as I felt him throb and start to come again, filling me again with his hot seed.
I rode him until he was nearly crying from the overload, and then, panting, I slumped forward, into his arms, my body embracing him like he embraced me, my heart hammering, reveling in the feeling of his muscles twitching under me.
.:.
How long we lay like that I don’t know. Semen and my own fluids glued our bellies together, and the hot, sour scent of sweat mingled with the smell of sex that permeated the air around us. Connor’s cheek was pressed to mine, and every so often his cock, though part flaccid, would twitch in me, and each time it did I’d gasp softly.
“Are you OK?” I breathed, eventually.
“Dead.”
“I killed you?”
“Deader than a doornail. Deader than a one-legged weasel on the motorway.”
“I guess that makes me a necrophile,” I grinned into his neck.
“You’re a warped and deranged little thing.”
“You bring out the devil in me.”
“Devil? Succubus. God, Ceri,” he added. “God, that was fantastic.”
“Connor, no jokes, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk. I think I’m so soundly fucked I’m going to be bruised down there.”
“I have no intention of letting you walk anywhere,” he groaned. “I plan to sleep, then rise like Lazarus, then do this again. I want to come in you till you spill come everywhere.”
“Already have,” I breathed, and he laughed.
“I know, but I want to watch it. I’m a bit bent that way…”
“I love this side you’re showing.”
“I love that you let me show it; that you don’t run when I do.”
“Connor, I told you, you will have to do something bad to make me run. Turning me to jelly doesn’t count. It just makes me fall harder. For you.”
He said nothing, but the kiss he gave me was gentle.
“Connor?”
“Ceri,” he murmured.
“Are you going to leave me?”
He squeezed me to him.
“Ceridwen, you’re a goddess. You thin, slender, sexy, amazing in bed, loving, caring, coquettish, devilish and an enormously fun person to be around. And in,” he added, chuckling.
I took a breath to speak.
“No, shh. Connor talks, Ceri listens. I know you were hurt. I know you’re worried. Don’t be. I’m going nowhere.”
“Promise?” I whispered, closing my eyes, listening to the gentle thudding of his heart under me.
“Promise.”
“Don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you dare. My heart won’t take it, not now, not after I’ve been like this with you.”
“I’ll be closer than your own skin, as long as you want me.”
“Swear it?”
“Cross my heart, my love.”
.:.
His chest my pillow, and the soft lub-dub of his heart was my lullaby. I slept, curled up against him, feeling safe, feeling wanted, feeling home. When I woke at intervals, feeling him there beside me calmed me, and each time after a brief period he’d stir, squeeze me, kiss me gently, and hold me till I fell asleep again.
When the pink dawn broke he warmed up the shower for me, and gently, deftly helped me clean myself while laughingly fending off my attempts to ravish him. He made me breakfast, dressed me in one of his coats against the chill, walked me home hand in hand, and kissed me a long, hot, lingering goodbye at my door.
I leaned against it, weak-kneed, watching him until he turned the corner. I ached, but it was a good aching, deep in me, and the empty place in my heart was gone, filled with the sound and scent of him, filled with light, filled with the first hope I could remember in many a long day.
I stood up straight, took a deep breath, and smiled. The sun was rising over the roofs at the end of the street, and pink wispy clouds dotted the early morning sky.
It looked like it would be a gorgeous day.
And, even if it weren’t, at the end of it there’d be Connor.
And that was all I needed.