Trying to Make It Last

Could I have said something? Of course I could have, but I didn’t. Instead I pressed my body against his. First my bottom against his back, and again when we rolled over to pull me close.

Feeling his cock throb against my ass, I waited.

Would we? Would he?

The mattress dipped. The nightstand drawer opened. I heard the pop of the cap and the thick sound of lube.

I expected a brutal thrust. It had been so long. I’d already gotten into position, stretching my torso forward and my hips back. Waiting.

His fingers sank into my flesh. I held my breath.

Instead of a determined fuck, he slowly slid his cock balls deep. Then pulled out, inch by inch, until the tip sat at my entrance.

I didn’t realize I’d held my breath until he sank back in, and the air exploded out of me.

He tried to draw out the moment, taking his time, dragging his shaft in and out slower and slower. With each pass, my cunt squelched. He lasted three thrusts before pure need took over.

Yanking my head back, my hair wound tightly in his hand, he ground into my cunt, thrusting, fucking, growling. I sighed into the moment, happiness and pain washing over my skin, a cooling balm of rightness. This was what we’d been missing.

When he came, he took himself by surprise.

“I tried so hard to make that last.”

Welcome to Masturbation Monday! From the moment I heard the lube jar open until the end, I had the biggest smile on my face. I was too tired to open my eyes, but awake enough to appreciate every moment because we’d fallen into another dry spell. And I was ecstatic as fuck to be fucked again. For the occasion, we snapped a picture of our preferred position.