Rock All Night

69




We made love after that, and it was extraordinary.

The mushrooms were still affecting me, so that was obviously part of it.

But even more powerful was the emotional high I was on.

The two of those things combined were absolutely mind-blowing.

A few minutes before, my anger had taken me out of the moment.

Now my love and desire for him made nothing exist but the here and now.

His body, my body, become one.

At times, it was hard to tell where he ended and I began.

We kissed at first – a long, slow, lingering kiss that seemed to last forever. Just like out in the desert, I lost all sense of time. It might have been two minutes, or it might have lasted fifteen. All I know is that as he touched my arms, I could feel him stir every downy little hair. When his mouth moved across mine, I could feel the hot, wet, feverish slide of his lips pull against my skin. His breath in my ear was just as erotic as any touch, and when I felt his body pressed against mine, it felt like I had found a part of me I hadn’t known I had lost.

He slowly pulled my shirt over my head, then unfastened my bra and let it fall to the floor. I did the same to his t-shirt, and luxuriated in the feel of my skin against his, the softness of my breasts against his hard body, the tips of my hardened nipples sensitive beyond belief as they brushed across his skin.

After another few minutes of kissing deeply, he knelt down and took off my boots, then unzipped my jeans and pulled them – along with my underwear – down to the floor. He kicked off his boots, and I hurriedly undid his pants, pulling them down until I exposed his gorgeous cock standing upright and stiff.

He pressed against me, enfolding me in his arms as he kissed me again. I could feel his shaft, hard and hot, pressing against me; it was like I was hyperaware of the space it took up, the exact outline of its surface against my belly.

His skin was so enticing. I couldn’t stop my hands from running over it, over the firm swells of muscles in his arms, his shoulders, his back. His fingers roved over my body, too, dropping down to my ass… softly cupping me there, clutching me, pressing me harder into his cock, grinding me against its scorching heat.

He led me over to the bed and pulled back the covers. I sat down while he remained standing… but now that I was eye-level with his cock, I became utterly fascinated. (Remember – still on drugs.) I reached out my hand and caressed it softly. Every throbbing vein in its velvety surface was beautiful… ever dark curl of hair was bewitching. I just stared at it as I stroked it, softly, slowly, feeling his heartbeat in my hand like it was its own living thing. The same way the desert had breathed that afternoon, I felt his cock expand and pulse in my hand.


That must have gone on for a couple of minutes, me just staring and stroking… feeling the weight and size and mass of him… enjoying the heat of his skin… running my fingers through his soft thatch of curls… watching a bead of his juices slowly appear from the tiny little slit in his swollen head, like a raindrop on pink silk.

Suddenly he groaned. That broke me out of my trance, and I lay back on the bed and beckoned to him, and he slowly laid down between my legs.

He began kissing me again. He put his arms under my back, his hands curling up over my shoulders. Using his grip as leverage, he slowly entered me. My eyelids fluttered as I felt the hot, swollen head press against me – and realized how wet I was for the first time. His cock sloooowly eased into me, and I swear I could feel every millimeter of him as the friction pulled against the inward walls of my p-ssy, my wetness enveloping him, drenching him, as he edged deeper and deeper inside me.

He began to rock gently, and again I was aware of the size of it, the mass, as it filled me up – and then it was like he was actually part of me. I couldn’t tell where my p-ssy ended and his cock began. It was just one glorious continuum of pleasure and pressure and fullness as he slid so far out I was afraid our oneness would end… and then slid back in, so deep inside me that I gasped, feeling him gently touch places I hadn’t known existed.

I moaned and stared into his eyes as he pulled away with his pelvis… and then used his arms on my body to pull himself back inside me, forcing me down on him, slowly driving himself deeper into me, filling me up. He never stopped staring at me, or me at him, as our breath commingled in long, slow sighs.

The feeling was incredible. Soft and wet, but hard and firm, sweet and lovely as he moved in and out of me. I felt myself getting closer and closer to orgasm, and my eyes half-closed, but I kept looking at him, never took my eyes away as the sweetness built, getting bigger, getting hotter, the contractions starting, getting faster, getting stronger, and then suddenly I was coming, my p-ssy clamping down on his cock as he eased in and out. I could feel every slow, luxurious, lingering inch of him, swelling inside me, pressing against me, giving me so much pleasure that I didn’t know what to do but whimper and moan, because it was soooo slow… soooo intense… like there wasn’t an end in sight. The flutterings would slowly die down, but as I felt his hardness, his thickness, wet and full inside me, slowly pressing deeper inside me, moving in and out, the contractions would slowly ramp up again. I came a second time, the pleasure flowing through me, slowly welling up, not like a sharp incline and drop-off, but a plateau I kept hitting again and again and again. I didn’t climax as powerfully as I had the other times he had been inside me, but it was pretty damn close. Then it would die away. Sixty seconds later, it would begin to build again, slowly pulsing around his thick, luscious cock, the sensations peaking every one or two minutes, then ebbing away, then building again, until I couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and the next one began.

I think by the fourth one my eyes had rolled back inside my head. When I looked at him again, he was just staring at me, like he had never seen anything more fascinating.

“…are you… are you going to come?” I whispered, and then closed my eyes as another gentle wave of pleasure rolled out from my legs into the rest of my body.

“…I’m not… sure I can…” he whispered back.

My eyes snapped open. Suddenly I felt very insecure.

“…are you not enjoying it…?”

“Oh, I’m enjoying it, alright.” He grinned, and I was immediately reassured. “More than you’d f*cking believe.”

Then he got a concerned look on his face. “Do you want me to come?”

Another wave of gentle pleasure unspooled inside me, and my eyes rolled back inside my head. “…no… not yet…”

“…do you want me to do anything…?”

“…just keep doing… whatever it is that you’re doing…”

“…I want to try something…”

“…okay…” I whispered. “…as long as you keep doing this to me…”

My eyes were closed, but I could ‘see’ the grin on his face as clear as day, just from the sound of his voice. “Oh, believe me… I will.”

He pulled out of me, and I whimpered a little as all the pleasure suddenly disappeared. I wanted to cry out, You’re supposed to keep doing what you were doing! but I didn’t want to sound pushy and controlling.

I didn’t need to worry. He went right back to doing it even better.

He flipped me over on my stomach and entered me from behind, just as slow as before, just as big and thick and long as before. But now there were new sensations inside me… new places he was touching… new pressures… new pleasures. The weight of his body on my back… the feeling of his body pushing sensually against my ass… and still he went as slow as before, sliding in and out, his thick, lovely cock filling me up, touching every spot I could ever want, stroking me deep, deep inside.

It only took a couple of minutes for me to build back to where I had been when he slipped out, and suddenly I was coming again, moaning into the bedsheets as I felt him rock back and forth… slowly withdraw, then fill me again… thickness and wetness and deep, deep caresses.

He stayed like that for a few more minutes – a couple more gentle orgasms on my part – and then he would pull out and rearrange me. We flowed like that, our lovemaking hypnotic, a trance I was in, interrupted only when he would pull out of me. But then it would start again as soon as I felt his stiff, swollen shaft softly enter my lips. He took me in a half dozen different positions: on my side and facing him, with one leg up over his pelvis and ass; him kneeling on the bed, with me sitting on his lap, my legs wrapped around his hips; him lying on the bed, with me sitting astride him; and then me lying fully on top of him, my legs stretching out on top of his, as he used his powerful hands to force me a few inches up and a few inches down as his pelvis slowly moved his cock inside me.

I think my favorite was me on top, because then I could control the angle, the pressure, and as the little waves built into bigger ones, I could use his cock exactly the way I wanted it, stroking myself with it, pressing it against me, going as deep as I could bear, but still slow as always, with one orgasm slowly unfolding into another.

I don’t know how many I had; I lost count after the tenth. Like I said, they weren’t the normal orgasms I was used to, but a kind of plateau I hit, different levels of pleasure and contractions that ebbed and flowed, in and out.

I also had no idea how long we made love. An hour? Two hours? Maybe only 45 minutes? I don’t know. Time was meaningless. There was only Now, and only pleasure, and only each other’s bodies, and that was all I knew, and all I wanted to know.

But as time went by, I noticed the sensations lessening, and that the trance was waning. I think I was still stoned, but it was quickly wearing off. Not that I minded – as much fun as twenty miniature orgasms were, I was approaching the point of exhaustion. My muscles were starting to flutter and twitch and ache.

“Oh Jesus,” Derek whispered. He was back on top of me in missionary, the way we had started, and his thrusts were quickening.

My eyes snapped open at the sound of alarm in his voice. “What?”


“I think I’m going to come…”

I laughed. “Oh my God, you scared me for a second…”

“No, seriously, I’m going to come – Kaitlyn, I’m going to come – ”

“Why are you so freaked out? Come for me, baby – ”

“But I don’t have a condom on – ”

Oh F*ck.

I hadn’t told him to put one.

I’d been so stoned I hadn’t thought about it –

…which I guess was his excuse, too.

No wonder it had felt amazing. And that he’d managed to stay hard the entire time.

“Pull out – ” I started to say, panicked, but he was already ahead of me.

His cock slid out of me, then thrust upwards between my soaked lips, slipping across my swollen *. I hadn’t been expecting the burst of sensation, and suddenly I was screaming as my own body spiraled into one crazy, final contraction as his wet, thick cock pumped over and over against my * –

“F*ck!” he screamed into my hair at the same exact second I came, too, screaming his name.

His cock exploded, spasming violently as he pumped and thrust, and I felt hot liquid shoot across my belly and up onto my breasts.

I didn’t care; I was beyond caring.

This one wasn’t a gentle orgasm.

“DEREK – OH F*ck – DEREK – ” I screamed as I raked my fingers down his back.

He bellowed and kept thrusting, wet and hard and rigid between my lips, and then he gradually slowed as his cum trickled slowly from my belly down my side. I lay there gasping, my whole body shuddering, as he collapsed in my arms.

After a few seconds of silence, he whispered into my ear, “Ho-leeeee shit.”

I just started laughing, and then we were kissing, coming down from the heights of drug-fueled insanity and back to reality.

I never, ever intend to take any form of psychedelic drugs again. The first hour was great, but the next three were torture.

At least the last couple were pretty damn amazing.