by Gage Grayson
My eyes roll back, and my vision goes slightly fuzzy.
She uses both hands to softly caress each side, the base, up to the tip of my cock, and I don’t want this moment to ever end, but then she lets go.
I open my eyes and look at Maddie, my vision refocused, the sight of her clear and magnificent.
Her eyes on mine, she pulls off her top with frantic force. Just like both of our sets of hands were feverish undoing my pants just minutes ago, now we’re both working the zipper at the back of her turquoise bra, and soon, it’s undone.
I gently finish removing Maddie’s bra, letting it fall to the floor, and I’m barely finished when she grips both my wrists, bringing my hands to her bare tits in a quick fluid movement.
Maddie tosses her hair and stares straight up at the ceiling, moaning softly.
I feel the fullness and the firmness of her tits. At the same time, I feel how way they give way, their natural texture.
Practicing expert showmanship, Maddie leaves me wanting more, letting her tits leave my grasp as she moves down slowly, strands of her hair moving down my chest, my abs, then my thighs.
I feel her tongue working its way around the base of my shaft, then working its way up.
Her tongue runs along every part of my cock, laying the groundwork for Maddie to paint her masterpiece.
The back of my head hits the carpet once more, and I make another animal sound—a little louder this time. I feel myself breathing almost alarmingly fast, but I don’t care.
Maddie continues to do her thing, her tongue painting an abstract masterwork. A work that’s better than anything that’s been on display at the MoMA or even the Met.
This magnum opus bests centuries, eons of art going back to prehistory, including those cave paintings in France. I’ve never felt anything so intensely express the joy, the mystery, and the beauty of life.
“Hnnng.”
I make another one of those sounds. She takes the tip of my dick into her lips and into her mouth.
I feel her shifting positions, her tits moving around the top of my legs.
Oh, Jesus, Lord. There we go. I grip my forehead as I feel myself go weak with ecstasy.
She makes noises, and she hums, and I feel the vibrations. Staring at the white ceiling so far above me, everything starts getting massively bright, and a heavenly glow overtakes my vision.
“Hnnnnnnnng.”
My own stupid moaning sounds bring me back to Earth.
Just as I’m approaching climax, Maddie gradually lets every inch of my cock, every centimeter, every millimeter slowly out of her mouth, past her tongue, as it continues to weave its primitive yet strikingly impressionistic vision out of her lips and back into the open air.
Maddie slides up next to me, and our eyes lock.
The look in her eyes…I was already close to coming all over the place to begin with, and now, I need to look away from her eyes for a second to keep that from happening.
“Would you like to see my bedroom?”
“Does it have a bed?” she asks.
“That’s what I named it after.”
“I don’t know if anything could be more comfortable than this floor, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try.”
Maddie grabs my arm. Awkwardly, but with all the determination in the world, we make it back to our feet. Maddie pulls me along as she starts running.
Despite my rigid cock, I’m able to keep pace with her with the power of sheer determination.
I feel like I’m in that late eighteen-hundreds painting of the couple running through the woods during a storm. I guess it’s obvious where the bedroom door is, and Maddie leads me in.
I slap the light switch on the wall, illuminating a big floor lamp. It’s not the dimmest light, but that’s fine, because I want to experience this as vividly as possible.
Ethan
Another memory coming back from the time we spent together in that honeymoon suite is the dancing.
The lopsided circles Maddie and I performed then, we’re performing again now, as we stumble and spin around on our way from my bedroom door to the bed, our lips and tongues adamantly locked.
We both fall down on our sides on top of the silky comforter. Our kiss breaks apart once again, as we take a moment’s rest to gaze at each other.
“Your turn,” Maddie tells me.
She’s positioning herself, sliding completely onto the bed. She’s ready to receive, her breathing already growing hurried with excitement.
By now, Maddie’s dispatched her shorts and is slowly sliding her turquoise panties past her knees.
She does let me do the honor of removing them entirely, though, and I proceed to circle them above my head for a bit before pitching them all the way to the far side of my bedroom.
“Nice shot,” she comments as I glance over to the darkened corner where her panties landed.
“Thanks,” I respond quickly, feeling everything within me flow towards the magnetic pull of what comes next.
I begin.
I move my hand gradually towards her thighs, feeling my own breath increase as our mutual readiness reaches a new peak.
I feel around the general area of her crotch, looking dramatically at the ceiling as if I don’t know what I was doing.
The last thing I see is Maddie smile a bit.
With my forefinger and my middle finger, I reach down towards her pussy lips. They’re as wet as anything I’ve ever felt.
I watch Maddie’s head roll back into the comforter. She moans softly, and I move my fingers up and down her lips until finally inserting my forefinger—just a tiny bit, teasing with a subtle touch.
Maddie’s groans get louder and louder until I stop, taking my hand away for a moment before starting again.
Like metal to a magnet, I find her clit.
I begin touching it as lightly as I can, keeping my fingers in its vicinity as I move down the bed and finally bring my head into the position it’s been longing to reach—the position to give Maddie mind-blowing gratification.
I kiss her inner thighs gently, one after the other, moving back and forth before I begin with soft tongue movements, driving both of us mad as I get closer and closer.
The sweet, mystical scent is drawing me in, and I feel the unmistakable energy of neither of us being able to take the teasing any longer.
It’s time to begin on my own masterpiece.
I feel the electricity flow through me.
Like my understanding of a painter at a blank canvas, I try channeling every bit of emotion that I’ve ever had. I try to feel whatever unconscious urges are feeding my desire, and I feel the ethereal energy in my tongue.
I lick around her lips gently with my flattened tongue, guiding my creative impulse to create the most pleasurable patterns possible.
As an artist, it’s always nice to get feedback. Critique is good, but praise is usually better.
And I take the sweet song that Maddie’s singing—a song of breathless, unbridled ecstasy in the form of her signature squeaks and moans—as the highest praise imaginable.
I start using my lips a bit, too, moving slowly up and down. I work my tongue back in, then I pull back slightly as she comes.
My mind is absorbed fixedly on Maddie, but I manage to notice the feeling of my own rock-hard cock for the first time, pressed as it is by my own weight on the foot of the bed.
It is absolutely ready to explode at the sights, sounds, aromas, and energy of Maddie’s climax.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “Fuck me right now.”
I catch a momentary flash of her eyes, telling me that that wasn’t literal—we both know my masterpiece is not quite finished. Maddie pointing at my head and back to her pussy seals the deal.
I redeploy my lips back to the lips of her pussy, offering her clit a few soft taps of my tongue before moving onto the finishing touches of this magnum opus.
My lips fall tenderly into place, as if they’ve arrived home at long last. I create a fa
int suction, increasing and decreasing the intensity in the mildest of waves, moving along with Maddie as she’s possessed by the demon of unspeakable delight.
I keep my lips where they are, moving my head back in rhythm with Maddie as she thrusts her cunt at my face, the sheets shifting underneath us as she grabs two fistfuls of the comforter tighter and tighter.
As she comes again, Maddie lets out a loud shout, neither high nor low, just an uncontrolled yell from the most primal part of her, with no thought or intent.
I move back and grab my pulsing cock, letting out my own unthinking moan, but stopping short of coming.
Maddie watches my cock for a leisurely moment, playing lightly with her nipples.
“Come on, for real this time,” she says. “I’m ready.”
I don’t know if I’m ready—I still remember those shockingly intense waves of pleasure from all those years ago—but there’s no time like the present, as they say.
As if there’s a clear path laid out in front of my dick, I thrust naturally towards Maddie and bring in just the tip at first.
“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!” Maddie shrieks as I feel the entire world vibrate. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
No time to be cute with the usual teasing, no drawing out and working my way back. Right now, the path we’re on has no room for that.
“Exactly what you’re fucking doing, yes. More, k-keep...more.” Maddie’s drifting off into blissful incoherence as she floats to paradise.
I stay on the path slowly, without changing direction.
“Unfffff.” I make another dumb, primeval noise as I get deeper.
“Oooooooooh.” At least Maddie’s noises have some clarity to them.
I close my eyes.
I must still have fine art on my mind, because I see a split second of a faint, bluish color that then shifts to violet before vanishing.
It’s the type of thing I’ll sometimes see if I’m drifting off to sleep after being awake for too long, or that one time I was trying transcendental meditation at the insistence of one of the partners at my firm…
But now it’s gone, leaving just the brightness of my floor lamp shining through my eyelids.
I open my eyes, my pupils dilated with excitement, letting in the light bathing the bedroom.
Maddie and I are working on another tour de force, and this time it’s a collaborative effort.
We’re operating together perfectly, like two performers with seasoned chemistry that can only come after decades of experience.
Except this time, it’s immediate and so fucking natural.
I’m not considering every detail or spending too much thought. It’s just happening, us complementing and completing each other’s movements in our classic missionary pose.
It’s going perfectly, because there’s no other way it could go.
Moving any other way than how I am now would be unthinkable, maybe impossible. We reach every subtle change of pace at the exact same moment, fluctuating but building on an upward course—faster, more intensely.
Climbing the mountain together, I’m already passing heights I’ve never seen.
We’re both groaning, growling, roaring out nonsense syllables—our yelps alternating, then concurring, quieting down for a second…
We’re not at the summit yet, but we can see it in the distance.
There’s still some miles to go before we scrawl our signatures on this masterpiece.
After the breathy hush of reaching another new height, Maddie slices through the silence with a wild, vulgar shriek as we shift onto our sides.
Shooting fires from our eyes at each other, it’s time for our finishing touches.
It’s not that I’d choose for this to end, but the end of this is as undeniable as every part of it—a masterpiece with nothing out of place.
But fuck the metaphor—we’re past that now. Now we’re just fucking. We’re still not at our peak, but we’re going at it wildly.
I’m feeling those waves of pleasure like I’ve felt with no one else, riding them as they take over every part of my mind, my body, giving me no choice but to live in this moment as it builds and builds.
Maddie’s gripping my biceps, digging her fingers hard into my arms as we shout uncontrollably…
Oh, fuck, it’s fucking here. Maddie comes first, shuddering and cooing with her latest orgasm.
Our instincts still entwined, Maddie and I slide just slightly away from each other. With my cock back out in the open air, the emerald blaze of Maddie’s eyes does not leave me as I reach my summit—and we stay passionately fixed on each other as I come.
Ethan
“Have a good night, my friend.”
Seriously, what kind of shit is that?
I mean, after that artistic mountain we climbed—among other mixed metaphors—that was how Maddie wanted to leave things?
I’m not one of those guys who complain about being called a friend. I don’t know what Maddie and I are, but however she wants to put it, it’s fine.
It’s not the word, it’s the expression. My friend.
It was painful enough the first time, even though I told myself I wouldn’t get wrapped up in it. I should just enjoy it while it lasts—for real this time.
And now someone’s knocking loud and insistent as fuck on my office door.
Goddammit. I was enjoying a nice Tuesday morning.
“Is that one of the partners?” I ask.
“The fuck do you think it is?” The voice at the other end of the door calls.
“Come on in, Roger.”
Roger throws open the door. “Only you would presume that a partner at this firm would bother knocking at your door,” he complains.
“Junior partner,” I correct Roger. “What brings you here all the way to this end of the hallway?”
“I think you might want to stand up for this.”
I take my feet off my desk and sit upright. That’s as far as I’m willing to go without hearing Roger’s urgent news.
“You’re going to need to actually stand and walk sooner or later,” Roger continues, “I know you know about the meeting. You know everything we talk about.”
“I’ve never heard anything about this. It is right now?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be a meeting only for ownership, managing partners, you know.”
“But then?”
“But then we realize you’re important enough...”
“Am I important enough?” I ask. “Or is it just my dealings with cashflow that necessitate my presence?”
By now I know that the SEC is here—that Maddie’s here—but I’m trying not to let that take over my mind.
“You know, I can’t answer that. I don’t think anyone could.”
That’s a good response.
“It’s the SEC, right?”
“Yeah, the same examiner you’ve been talking to.”
There’s a lot that goes on behind my back. I’m realizing how out of the loop I’ve been, and it’s more of a relief than a disappointment.
But that’s all irrelevant, because I’m in the fucking loop now whether I want to be or not.
“I just want to get this straight: there’s a meeting with—”
“The SEC lady you’ve been talking to,” Roger interrupts me, “if you didn’t remember.”
“No, I remember. And it’s now?”
“Right now.”
Maybe Coney Island is just a sweet little epilogue to an extraordinary, long-ago week. That would be okay. Right?
Roger was right. I need to fucking stand up. So I do.
“You ready there, buddy?” Roger asks, knowing that his patronizing tone will drive me crazy.
“Yeah, buddy.”
Roger nods, respecting the way I throw his tone right back at him. That makes me feel okay, but, fuck, here we go.
The SEC lady. Madeline.
Not Maddie. I can’t think of her that way.
Madeline.
It’s time to figure this shit out.
I follow Roger down the hallway.
“I hope you understand it’s not a bagels and coffee meeting,” Roger says as I follow him, digging his patronizing tone in a little deeper.
That’s okay. I can’t operate as a total lone wolf in this neighborhood. Compared to other people in this business, Roger and the rest of the firm aren’t that bad.
Not from what I’ve seen, anyway.
“Oh, my goodness, no!” I retort. Roger ignores me.
As much as I need to be Mister Barrett right now, for my own good and everyone else’s, Ethan is making himself known.
Also, my legs are getting too fucking heavy to move as we get within a few feet of The Boardroom. This is not a conference room—this is The Boardroom.
That is not what I find intimidating. To me, it’s just another fucking room.
But this will involve the upper management of the firm. And Madeline.
AKA Maddie from my fucking honeymoon in Hawaii that I’m still thinking about—and still would be thinking about even if Coney Island never happened.
My legs are moving again.
This is life, and it can be pretty fucking funny sometimes, even as I look into The Boardroom.
Even as I catch sight of Madeline.
I walk quickly, so I don’t even see her face, her eyes, but I know that it’s her.
I see her golden hair. I see what she’s wearing: a purple suit with white pinstripes. I get just the lightest visual taste of her shapeliness.
I file in, and Roger files in. The partners talking and jabbering—just the usual, casual pre-meeting sort of din.
I’m just here at work. No personal feelings involved.
Maddie’s here.
She’s a fling, though. That’s how we both see it; we agreed on that a long time ago.
Not my only fling, either, and not the only great sex I’ve had. It’s also not the only fling that I’ve returned to long time after it ended originally.
It’s time to stop thinking about that, anyway.
I don’t sit at The Board table very often. That’s what we call it, at least.
Honestly, I’m not a big fan of that weird, varnished wood or that the table is so fucking immense it takes up almost the entire room—but I don’t make a habit of complaining about it, and this time I don’t say a word while walking through the Boardroom.