I went up the stairs to Tony’s bedroom with him right behind me. Kissing me hard at the foot of his king size bed, with a free hand he grabbed the clothes strewn across his bed and dropped them on the floor.
He grabbed my shoulders, steered me toward the edge of the bed, and pushed me down on my back. I bounced and giggled with delight, knowing what was coming next.
Looking at me with raw hunger in his eyes, he kneeled on the bed at my feet, put a hand on the inside of each bent knee, and pushed my legs open. Taking a moment to admire the view, he leaned forward, put a hand on either side of my head and crushed me with a kiss.
Tony is without fail one of the best kissers I have ever been with, and it’s been that way since our very first date. It’s perfect kissing chemistry.
I know it’s cliché but the best term to describe what happened next is he ravaged me. I have some of the best / worst bruising on my shoulders as a result and a mark on my neck.
Everything stayed on but Tony pulled the snaps of my camisole apart to plunge his fingers inside me. He groaned as he felt how wet I was, at the same time my first orgasm started to build. When he put his mouth on my breast I writhed beneath him and arched my back, panting.
He quickly undressed and pulled me into him. He was rock hard and we both gasped as he entered me. I can’t imagine ever tiring of that feeling. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and we moved in sync, my hips rising to meet each thrust.
He wanted a change of pace so released me, walked around to the side of the bed, grabbed my ankles, pulled me to the edge, and plunged into me again.
He stood at the side of his bed for what felt like an hour. It probably was. He thrusted and pounded and moved my legs – still in the high heeled boots and thigh highs – wherever he wanted them. He can hold both my ankles in one hand.
Replaying it in my head days afterwards I still have the clear image of the little move he would do with his arms to quickly get my legs on his shoulders. Or of his muscles bulging as he’d use various parts of my body (hips, arms, shoulders) for purchase.
I could see him occasionally looking at himself in the hallway mirror. I knew he liked what he saw. He once told me I was the only woman he’s had sex with who he fantasizes about. It reminds me of the meme which says if you fantasize about the woman you are dating you should marry her. I’ve not told him that.
Hours later, drenched with sweat, completely satiated (and then some), we collapsed in each other’s arms and fell asleep.
The best was yet to come.
At 4am he pulled me into him the way he likes to do; on our right sides with me as the little spoon. I wish we could sleep like that but eventually he has to shift his weight.
I guess it’s a good thing to have had so much sex I can’t even clearly remember our 6am sex. It doesn’t make a dent in my story at all but I’m pretty sure we had one round, which ended with him taking me from behind and coming with a growl and a shudder.
Tony had to update some fantasy football picks and I laid in bed, revealing in the smell of our sex in the sheets. Just as I was drifting off he turned off the lights and came back upstairs. He lay back down beside me and I snuggled into him, ready to snooze.
But snoozing wasn’t what he had in mind.
I have to say, Tony’s drive and mine are very well matched. It’s glorious.
I was already wet as I took the opportunity of hard morning wood to get on top. He moaned as I teased the tip of his cock for a few minutes before completely lowering myself into him.
I’ve been told a few times I ride a man like no other. I’m going to accept the compliment even though I’m the first to be cynical about such comments. Tony said once he doesn’t like the position, but I think I’m making him a convert. And with his occasional hydraulics issues, he’s not usually hard enough for me to really enjoy it with him.
That morning was an exception. He and I got into a gorgeous rhythm and I could feel the all-body orgasm building. I was not going to let us stop and I told him so. Some of my previous lovers (Jason, and even Fox) figured out the magic ingredients for me to have that orgasm, and I know they considered it an accomplishment every single time. I am insanely (and uncontrollably) loud, and usually I need a few minutes of rest before I can get back in the proverbial saddle.
It’s never happened before with Tony.
But that time, it did.
And the best part? He didn’t stop afterwards. Before my after-orgasm aftershocks subsided I was cumming again at the edge of his bed with him standing in front of me. His bed is the perfect height.
It. Was. Glorious.
Hours of sex blend together in my memory. Different positions, countless orgasms, getting a pounding then having his weight on me as we moved slowly together. Him never closing his eyes; watching me and my reactions the entire time.
We earned the big breakfasts we had at a local diner. I’m still bearing the marks of that night and morning, and smile every time I have a delicious flashback.