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Ex-Con Times Two

Page 62

by Jay S. Wilder


  We finally stumble into the apartment. I kick the door closed, already working at her clothes. I pull off her sweater, so glad to see she’s not wearing a bra. Immediately my mouth closes over one nipple. She cries out softly as she pushes the coat from my shoulders, following by my suit jacket. I let go of her long enough to take off my tie then unbutton my shirt, which she removes as I work on my pants. We both laugh at our urgency, even as we burn to be close to each other.

  Her pants come off as mine do, leaving us both in our underwear. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around my waist. We kiss as I carry her to the bedroom. I’m too desperate to be inside her to bother with preambles. The wetness already evident between her legs is a godsend.

  “Take me,” she whispers, writhing beneath me. I slide into her. It’s like I’m home again. She’s so hot, so tight I almost come right then, but manage to hold on until the urgency passes.

  I start to move, slowly, relishing the way she gripped every inch of me. “So good,” I whisper. She moans as I move my hips forward to bury myself in her. I know she’s been missing my body as much as I’ve missed hers.

  She opens her eyes, then turns her head to gaze up at me. “I love you,” she whispers, then arches her back as I drive myself forward again.

  “I love you,” I whisper back, the truth of it in my heart as well as throughout my body. Her cries grow louder the longer we go. Her heels are against my ass, allowing her to pull me against her over and over, begging me without words to go deeper.

  I cover her mouth with my own, muffling her cries, then take her lower lip between my own so I can suck on it. She moans louder, urging me on, the passion sweeping over both of us.

  I roll over, then, taking her with me. “Ride me,” I whisper, taking her hips in my hands. I want to watch her while she gets herself off. Her tits bounce, matching her motions as she slams herself down on me. She impales herself again and again, grinding her clit against me when she comes down.

  “That’s right, baby,” I whisper. “Come for me. Come all over me.” She moans loudly in response. Her sheath tightens around me, bearing down on me, as her climax approaches. Then she screams. Her muscles clench, then I watch as she shakes and gasps for air.

  Not for long, as I take her hips in my hands so I can begin thrusting rapidly upward into her. My head snaps back when my balls tighten against me, then explode. I cry out as I empty my need into her. She collapses against me. We’re both completely spent.

  It takes a few minutes, during which time we both catch our breath, to remember I never slid the ring onto her finger. “Hey, fiancée,” I murmur, my eyes still closed. She giggles from her position on top of me, where she’s still stretched out.

  “Yes, fiancé?” she asks, giggling again. I’ve missed the sound of her laughter so much. I stroke the sweaty hair back from her forehead so I can place my lips against it.

  “You never took the ring,” I say. She gasps, her head popping up from my chest.

  “Dang!” she says, jumping from the bed to dash back into the living room. I can’t help but laugh. I’m still chuckling when she returns, box in hand.

  “I thought you should do it,” she whispers, suddenly shy. My heart warms as I take the ring from the box. She sits down beside, left hand held out expectantly, allowing me to slide the ring over her third finger.

  “It’s beautiful,” she marvels, moving her hand back and forth, watching the stones sparkle.

  “You’re beautiful,” I reply, never taking my eyes from her face. “I love you.”

  She looks at me, the beaming smile stretched from ear to ear telling me she loves me, too. I take her in my arms again, already wanting more of her. I will for the rest of my life.

  The END

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