The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

Andy rolled off of me, and I sat up and made room on the bed for him to lie down. I watched him get a condom from his discarded pants, tear the foil, pinch the tip, and then roll it over his length, his perfect eyebrows drawn together over the bridge of his nose. I felt an ache between my legs, I would have begged for him to hurry, ravish me, do it now!, but I knew Andy wanted something different, and what I wanted most of all was to see him pleased, to grant his wishes, and perform exactly as he desired. My face throbbed, hot, and I felt myself contract at the memory of his display of force. I resolved to do my best to keep him happy.

He took his sweet time reclining on the bed, getting comfortable. My eyes were glued to him, his careful movements, his perpetually amused half-smile. My desire had reached such a fever pitch that my excitement began to run, slow and hot, down the inside of my thighs. He motioned me onto him, and I brought myself over his pelvis. He tried using a hand to guide himself into me, but I hovered too high, instead bending to kiss him and run my hands through his hair and over his smooth chest.

He grabbed both of my nipples by the barbels they were pierced with, pinched hard, and twisted some 300 degrees. I hissed, he had my attention! I looked down, he had a smile so innocent it belonged on an angel. His eyes were like a late afternoon in December when a storm was coming. I was captivated. "Andy," I whispered, and he gripped me firmly by the hips and guided me towards his cock, letting me know what he wanted. Me, he wanted me.

I felt his large head at my slick opening. I leaned forward, rubbing my breasts against him, and rocked back onto him. The feeling of Andy entering me made me tremble and whimper, I heard his low groan. He was abnormally large, frankly difficult to accommodate at times. But my excitement lubricated my narrow passage so well, I was able to work him inside of me fully, we both groaned loudly as he went deeper. It almost hurt, I could feel him pushing me open and apart.

I curved my spine down onto him with each sweet thrust, feeling him hit my cervix and my g-spot, then withdraw almost completely. At first my pace was slow, I spent so much time luxuriating in tasting the skin of his neck, kissing him, so many thousandfold times better than any shallow masturbatory fantasy. I felt my whole upper body get warmer, and tension built everywhere, spreading.

I could think only of Andy. I felt him remove a hand from my hip, and then it came down, stinging, on my backside, a moment later. "Harder!" His voice was commanding, firm, and ended with the slightest growl. I swooned, contracting around him with arousal, close to orgasm. Then I regained control and doubled my speed, smashing my clitoris against him, feeling his impossibly large manhood penetrate me, filling me more than I thought any flesh and blood man ever possibly could.

the white- hot pleasure began in a small ball at the base of my clitoris, extending into my womanhood. As Andy pounded against the incipient orgasm with his cock, it grew, preparing to burst. I chanted Andy's name, blind to everything but his face, his desires. He squeezed my breasts roughly and blew me a kiss, smiling like a rogue, and I went over the edge.

Notes

Sorry i had to run when i originally posted this. i ran out of time during lunch.

qotd: like reading smut/prefer no smut? (you can specify re: this story vs. in general if need be)

i like smut just fine. cause i'm a perv like that. with regards to the smut i personally write, i dunno if i enjoy reading it, per se, because i'm, you know, editing it when i'm reading it. and trying to remember, back in the dim corners of my mind, what sex was like. bwahahaha! ;-)