by Lisa Ferrari
I then switch and begin bouncing up and down, feeling his entire length sliding out and then back in, all the way in.
I do this again and again.
I’m so close.
But I don’t want to come yet.
When Kellan and I make love, sometimes it’s five super-intense minutes of ecstasy. We’re both so excited, so aroused, that the passion is overwhelming, and it concludes quickly.
Other times, we make love for hours, relishing being naked together, surrounded by candles and music. Usually when we’ve smoked a bit of grass. (Which we haven’t done in a long time; I make a note to mention it later.)
And still other times, it’s somewhere in between.
Right now, I’m somewhere in between. I want to get off. Badly. Edging Kellan in the shower, squeezing and pumping his beautiful penis with both hands and bringing him repeatedly to the brink of orgasm got me fired up. As a result, I am desperate for release.
But I also want to have my vagina wrecked. Plowed. Whatever ridiculous word describes what I want. I don’t know exactly how to say it without feeling dirty and stupid.
It doesn’t matter; focus! Stop thinking so much!
I chastise myself. I know I shouldn’t but I do.
You have your naked fiancée’s beautiful naked body here before you, inside you; shut up and enjoy it.
Yes.
That’s what I need to do.
And maybe enjoy a bit of the Juicy Fruit we have stashed in the pantry. Say what you like, or, rather, dislike, about pot, it definitely quiets the mind and helps me enjoy being in the moment rather than being distracted by my random and tangential thoughts when I’d rather not be.
Like now.
“You okay?” Kellan mumbles.
“Yeah. Why?”
Kellan shrugs. “You seem… distant.”
“Sorry. I’m fine. I just can’t seem to get out of my own head.”
I stop riding him and run my fingers through my hair, as if I can somehow manually extract all the distractions and negative thoughts.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing, really. Just… today, working out, the beach, us. What I did to you in the shower. How insanely horny I am right now for some reason. I swear my vagina is like… I don’t know… hungry or something. That, and weed and whether it’s good or as dangerous as people who like or don’t like it say it is, and how I wish I was high right now so I could get out of my stupid head and enjoy being here, able to focus on the moment.”
I shake my hips, feeling the pressure of him inside me. I slap my clitoris a few times, like I’ve occasionally seen girls do in porn online. It never really did much for me, slapping myself. But it helps a little.
“God, I need to get fucked!” I declare, looking up at the ceiling. I realize there is a mirror on the ceiling above the bed. I see myself sitting astride Kellan, and our huge, wide, fluffy white bed. “Was there always a mirror up there?”
“No, I had it installed when they cleaned the carpets and stuff. I’ve been waiting for you to notice.”
Kellan has a big smile on his face.
How did I not notice that?
Pathetic.
My desire is waning.
Frustration is taking over.
“Damnit.”
I turn and look out the window at the city, then at the pool. Maybe I should just go lay out in the sun and take a nap or something.
But all at once, Kellan sits up, wraps his arms around me, and leans back until I’m flat and he’s poised above me. And is still inside me. He lifts my legs and spreads them wide.
Oh.
Kellan leans forward, kisses me, and says, “You need to get fucked?”
I’m scared. Suddenly I think I shouldn’t have said that. I merely stare up at him.
He kisses me, long and hard.
He begins thrusting. Slowly for the first few.
Then faster.
Then faster.
He sits up, poised on his knees, his hands, holding my ankles.
He gives it to me.
Fast.
In and out.
Endlessly.
Like a machine.
I can scarcely draw breath it feels so good.
Every few thrusts, Kellan’s body impacts mine. The front of his hips bump my ass. My entire body moves. My breasts bounce. Each time it happens, it takes the pleasure, the excitement, to another level. I feel myself slipping, slipping out of my mind and into my body as my body takes control, responding to what Kellan is doing.
“Oh, God, Claire, you’re so wet.”
“You make me that way.”
Kellan grins for a second. He withdraws suddenly. I feel a moment of panic; why is he stopping?
His mouth covers me. His lips hot. His tongue goes inside me. Swirling. Finding my clitoris up and down and all around and I’m melting into it. And then he is inside me once more hot and thick and in and out and in so deep, filling me up, spreading me open, parting me. And then he’s pounding me. Faster. Harder. Until he’s fucking me. Really fucking me. He hasn’t done it like this in a long time. In fact, I’m not sure we’ve ever done it like this. It’s as if our sexual, intimate, most private and cherished relationship knows no bounds, constantly finding new levels of arousal and lust and passion.
New levels of love.
I start moaning.
Kellan continues thrusting, his skin slapping mine in perfect rhythm.
Yes, this is one reason why we maintain our fitness. Maybe even one of the best reasons. Endurance during lovemaking.
Kellan buries himself inside me.
Then he pulls out and thrusts only halfway back in over and over and over, teasing me.
Just when I’m about to tell him to go deeper, to beg him to go deeper, he plunges into me. So deep.
And then he’s poised above me, his hands on either side of my head, my legs hooked over his shoulders, my arms gripping his back, and I’m rolled up into a yoga position, an ideal way for Kellan to thrust himself into me slapslapslapslapslapslapslapslapslap filling me filling me filling me forever.
“Oh… Kellan… yes… yes… yes… Fuck me, Kellan… Fuck me…”
I barely hear the words coming out of my mouth. My entire focus, my entire being, is on what I see, his thick erection, long and hot, pistoning in and out of me. His breath on my face. Both our eyes watching the action.
I feel the building, and I do my best to put it off. I want to prolong this. I want it all day, and all night, for this is what I wanted. This raw act of intercourse. Getting fucked. Royally. By my fiancée. The man I love. The man who loves me.
This thought is my undoing.
I come.
It happens suddenly, everything contracting tighter and tighter and I can’t breathe, and then I explode with release.
Kellan has me pinned in place, and my head thrashes side to side on the bed, my hair in my face, and I can’t move as I come and come and come, coming so hard with Kellan holding me in place, pumping in and out of me as I squeeze him so tight.
After thirty seconds of bliss so powerful I can barely stand it, I breathe again, gasping for air as I come back to awareness.
I look up at Kellan through the hair strewn across my face.
He’s looking down at me with a determined look on his face.
And then I understand why: he’s not stopping. He maintains the pace, the rhythm, the intensity. Pounding pounding pounding. Thrusting thrusting thrusting.
I’m not sure what to do.
We usually stop at this point because we’ve come together and we’re both utterly spent.
I gaze up at Kellan. He stares into my eyes.
We’re testing each other somehow.
He’s still going, thrusting thrusting thrusting.
Then I feel it. I’m building again.
WTF?
I moan. Very nearly against my will. I’m
moaning, breathing in and out loudly. Things are contracting inside me. I almost feel like I’m going to pee. It’s so intense. I can’t breathe. My abdominal muscles are flexed so hard they almost hurt.
Kellan’s scrotum and balls are slapping against my ass each time he buries himself inside me.
I come again.
I don’t know how, but I do. It takes me over, strong and intense, just as strong and intense as the first one.
So intense I almost can’t take it.
And still Kellan continues.
His skin is glistening with sweat now. Beads forming on his brow. He’s breathing steadily in and out through his mouth. It’s the same sound he makes when we’re doing cardio together on side by side treadmills and I hear him in the hissing silence between songs on my headphones.
A bead of sweat falls from the tip of his nose onto my left breast.
He smiles.
And doesn’t stop.
I need to stop.
My legs are starting to shake, my inner thigh muscles quivering.
“Kellan…”
“I want to come inside you.”
My focus shifts.
Instead of feeling spent and overstimulated, I’m picturing his beautiful erection pumping hot semen into me. Deep, deep inside me.
A fresh wave of desire fills my body. My mind. I no longer want him to stop; I want him to keep going. To keep going until he explodes inside me. I want him to use my body to get off, to use my body for his own pleasure. I am emboldened by giving myself to him in this way.
“Fuck me, Kellan. Fuck me til you come. I want your come inside me.”
His sweat drips on my breasts. I smell him, hot and sticky, shaving cream, bodywash, shampoo, sweat, musky and virile and thrusting so deep.
Desire and lust and love fill his eyes. He picks up the pace. He goes even harder and faster. He’s so deep. He moans and grunts. Like an animal.
My vagina is simultaneously on fire and totally numb. I feel the pressure of him filling me, the heavenly sensation of him sliding in and out.
And then it happens: I come a third time. Quite suddenly my thighs try to squeeze together despite Kellan holding them in place. My hips try to flex, my legs try to straighten, everything in me wanting, trying, to contract, to squeeze, to come.
But I can’t move.
I’m pushing. Kellan is fixed. My orgasm is the unstoppable force meeting his immoveable object.
My eyes shut tight, I grab fistfuls of down comforter and clench my teeth. I gasp for air, breathing in and out through gritted teeth. I’m grunting along with Kellan now. “I’m… coming…”
The pleasure seizes me and doesn’t let go.
I can’t breathe.
My breasts bounce each time Kellan slams into me, driving driving driving into me.
I’m held, locked in place, and I’m coming so hard I lose track of where I am, of what’s happening.
I’ve never felt anything like this.
I’m distantly aware that my head is back, my eyes are shut tight, and I’m grunting and groaning through clenched teeth as spit flies out of my mouth and onto my lips and chin.
The climax doesn’t dissipate when I expect it to. I’m held aloft, pinned beneath the man I love, a contradiction of pleasure so intense it’s very nearly pain.
“I’m commmmmmmmmiiiiiinnnnggggggg……..”
All at once, Kellan releases me, withdraws, and my body locks, all my muscles taught.
He kneels over me and through lidded eyes I see him furiously stroking himself.
He erupts all over me.
I watch, mesmerized, as I’m covered in his fluid.
My breasts. My stomach. My pubic hair. My lips. I slide my tongue across my lips, savoring the taste.
Kellan collapses on the bed beside me, breathing breathing breathing heavily.
He slowly strokes himself with one hand, coming slowly down.
Tiny tremors rack my body. I quiver. I shake. I tremble.
“You okay?”
We’re gazing up at one another in the mirror above us.
I lick my lips again, searching for the strength to speak. “I… I didn’t know I could… do that.” I’m lightheaded. “We’ve never… done that… before.”
“No.” Kellan rolls to one side and puts one arm around me. He kisses the side of my face tenderly. “But we’ll definitely do it again.”
We lie silently in the afterglow, breathing.
His breath is soft and warm on my face. His arm grows heavier. His breathing becomes slow and steady. Eventually, he’s asleep. My entire body is exhausted. More spent than I’ve ever been. In moments, I am asleep as well.
Chapter 26
I AWAKEN LATER.
The room is filled with soft, orange light. The sun is setting outside. The city lights are coming on.
Kellan is asleep beside me, his arm still draped over me. He hasn’t moved. Neither have I. I still have Kellan’s lovely semen dry and drying all over my body.
I raise my arms above my head and stretch.
Kellan wakes and smiles up at me.
“Morning,” I say.
“Morning,” he purrs. He gazes around the room. “Is it really morning? Did we sleep all day and all night?”
“No. The sun is going down. Want to go in the spa and watch the sunset?”
“Sure.”
We slowly extract ourselves from our rumpled love nest of soft white sheets and blankets. I lead Kellan by the hand through the house and out to the Jacuzzi. We both hobble a little.
“Are your legs sore?” I ask.
“Yep.”
“How have you been able to deal with this all these years?”
“I actually like it. When my muscles hurt like this, I know they’re going to get bigger and stronger in the next few days. Research indicates that protein synthesis peaks at thirty-six hours. That’s a day and a half. Then it’s safe to hit the muscle group again. Have we talked about this? I feel like we’ve had this conversation.”
“I don’t remember.”
“I don’t either.”
I turn on the Jacuzzi and we go to the kitchen for a snack while it heats. We’re both naked. I love that. I love watching Kellan as he moves. I love the way his muscles move under his skin. Like a lion or a panther or a race horse, some sort of powerful animal.
Kellan and I are both famished after our nap, which we calculate was a good five hours. Very nearly a full night’s sleep. Kellan heats up two ready-meals (tilapia and broccoli; no asparagus; yay!). We devour them and he heats up two more and we devour those. We’re ready for something sweet so for dessert he blends up egg whites from the carton, a scoop of chocolate protein powder, half a banana, dry Quaker oats, cocoa powder, a tablespoon of peanut butter, several large spoons of instant coffee, four packets of stevia, and a handful of ice cubes. It’s the best chocolate-coffee-peanut butter shake I’ve ever had.
Kellan pours the rest of the shake from the big blender into our shaker cups and we head outside to the spa.
It occurs to me to wonder if there are any drones in the area, spying on us. Hopefully Uzi will be taking care of that.
Kellan takes me by the hand and we help each other balance as we climb down the steps into the Jacuzzi.
The water is only lukewarm but it helps wake us up. Within a few minutes, it’s warming nicely.
We recline side by side, naked, floating shoulder to shoulder. I love running around the house naked with Kellan.
We stare out at the city.
“What a perfect day,” Kellan says.
He’s right. It has been perfect.
After a time, Kellan says, “You feel like working out?”
“We trained this morning.”
“I know. I feel like training again. I’m happy. I always want to train when I’m happy. And I’m happy when I train. Most people hate to work out. They have all these negative thoughts and
feelings and associations attached to exercise and lifting weights and doing cardio and eating properly. But I realized a long time ago that the pain and unhappiness I felt from not having the body I wanted was a million times worse than the pain of burning muscles and sweating and breathing hard and being sore the next day. Schwarzenegger once said that pain is what makes you grow and so, for him, pain is pleasure. I’ve always remembered that. When I’m training, and I’m in the middle of a set, and the burn starts to come, and I start to get tired, I think of that. The more pain you can endure, the more you’re going to grow. In bodybuilding and in life.”
“So, if we extrapolate that to our lovemaking, and to our most recent session in particular during which, if I recall correctly, you completely, totally, and utterly screwed my brains out, it means my orgasm muscles were just pushed to their limits, so now they’re going to get stronger for next time?”
“I think such an extrapolation is fair and accurate.”
Wow. Stronger orgasms. Imagine that…
Kellan grins, then leans over and kisses me lightly. The hot water pulses between my thighs. I’m aware of it on the underside of my breasts as well. Is it my imagination…or am I still horny? My skin is so sensitive. Bubbles are tickling my butt crack, too. An odd sensation, but one which is making me think about cold vanilla ice cream and Kellan’s long, hot tongue… in there.
“What sort of associations do you have when you think about working out?” he asks me.
“Good ones. Positive ones. It makes me think of you, mostly. And that makes me very happy. Very, very happy.”
“What else?”
“Um, I think about how my body looks now versus how it used to look, and I don’t want to go back to that. I see myself in the mirror and at first I don’t recognize the person I see. It always takes a second for me to remember everything that’s happened and that I’m different now. So I guess there’s a bit of fear motivating me, too. I’ve read a lot of comments online for all the videos we’ve done and a lot of people say I’m going to get fat again someday, because once a pig always a pig, and that you should roll me in flour and aim for the wet spot. And I remember what we said in Monterey, that I have a lot of people to prove wrong. But all that is a negative association. And while it can be powerful, I don’t think it’s healthy. Not in the long run. Certainly not as healthy as focusing on the positive. And for that, I associate working out with being with you. Remember all the times we worked out naked back home?”