My whole body went taut, muscles tight, hips flexed up to push against his mouth. My inner muscles clenched at his fingers, pulling them deeper. My breath stopped, and all I could do was make a choking sound. I came and came and came; all I could think was that I’d found something I’d lost.
Colin stroked me through my climax. I jerked violently when his tongue flicked over my clit one last time, and he withdrew his fingers. I expected him to put his cock inside me. Instead he climbed up my body and lay beside me.
He wasn’t going to do it.
I felt vulnerable right then, and he knew it. He was going to try to be honorable or something. I didn’t want that. I couldn’t believe in it.
His cock looked dark and thick and wet at the tip. Something softened in a deep, cold place inside my chest that he was willing to postpone his pleasure for my ridiculous personal shit. That he would even know I had any personal shit when this was just a random hookup.
But no, I wanted to please him. He let me push him fully onto his back. I climbed over him and teased him into an openmouthed kiss, ran my hands down his chest. I wanted to give him something, and this was all I had to give.
I’d thought he wanted to be submissive to me, from his gentleness, the way he had worshipped me during oral sex, and the way he was pliant when I pushed him over. It wasn’t a role I’d have thought I’d like, but I found myself willing to go there for him. I already knew I’d go down on him. I was looking forward to blowing his mind, along with his cock.
But as I started trailing my kisses downward, my intention clear, he stopped me and shook his head slightly. I’d never had a man turn down a blowjob before. I’d never heard of it happening, not during sex, not when it was free. It flustered me, the way he could do anything to me but he chose to make me feel good.
He arranged me again, so that I was straddling his hips with my legs on either side of him, resting my hands on his chest. His arousal bobbed up toward my hanging breasts.
Colin reached across the bed to his jeans and pulled a condom out of his wallet. He slipped it on and maneuvered my hips onto his erection, then down, slowly. The tautness of his face spoke of urgency, but he held my hips still. We were on his time.
At last he rocked up with tiny thrusts. When I caught the rhythm on my own, he released my hips and smoothed one hand back along my ass. The other came up to my breasts, stroking them, tweaking them.
I could feel the difference in his touch from before. He wasn’t trying to get me off now. He was playing with me for his own pleasure. I leaned into his touch, and he sucked my nipple into his mouth.
My arousal built, taunting me, and I tried to speed up.
His hand tightened on my ass. No, not yet.
I relaxed into the rocking motion as the pleasure between my legs grew. This was nothing like the sex I’d had before. It was more like a dance or even a meditation. I had no idea how much time passed, but when my legs got sore and tingly, he rolled us over.
He surged into me deeper, in an aggressive rhythm that took me faster and harder. I pulled my legs higher and curled my hands lightly on his neck, opening my body in supplication. I wasn’t an active participant any longer. I couldn’t help him or even react—I could only take it.
I came again, and this time it wasn’t in a blinding explosion but a soft wave. Not a crest but a hum of pleasure, accented with each of his thrusts.
He buried his face into the side of my neck, groaning roughly as he came. His whole body rumbled at the sound, shuddered at his release. His arms tightened their hold on my body, and his hips pushed down into me, harder, deeper—yes.
He collapsed and rolled off me. He lay faceup, eyes closed, breathing hard. Colin looked beautiful to me, then. I might have thought he was handsome before, or maybe not, but it was an objective sort of observation. Looking at him now, knowing him—it was too much.
I stumbled off the bed and into the bathroom. I felt my own wetness sticky on the insides of my thighs, but I didn’t bother to wash. I sat down on the linoleum and leaned my back against the bathtub, trying to get it together.
I’d thought his sweetness was weak, but that wasn’t true at all. He was entirely in control, treating me the way he wanted, not the way I asked for it. And more than that, he seemed to know what I needed, giving it to me despite myself.
He walked into the bathroom, still naked, and sat next to me on the cold floor. I thought it was pretty silly and not totally clean. He put his arm around me and wiped away the tears I wanted to hide. I cried quietly for who knows how long while he held me.
I knew I’d feel stupid when I came back to reality, so I held it off as long as I could. Even after I stopped crying, I kept my eyes closed and buried myself into his side.
Then his stomach growled. We wouldn’t be able to sit here forever.
I peeked at him. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wouldn’t be good. Anger maybe, or frustration, disgust, pity, or any number of bad things might be there, before he got the hell out of Dodge.