But right as she begins to peak, I have this uncomfortable thought, this thought out of nowhere, that this is the best it’s ever going to be. That I’m going to look back at this moment one day and realize that it was when we were the closest, the most uncomplicated, the most in love. And I realize I think that because there’s no camera on us right now, no camera to capture this moment forever. It makes it feel so fragile, like it could vanish at any second, and how do people bear this? This feeling like love and ecstasy are slipping through their fingers? With a camera, I could hold on to it, freeze it in time. But without one, there’s nothing protecting this moment from being swept into oblivion.
And then a dawning realization of oblivion comes as she shatters around me, as she cries out and flexes and shudders with waves of release.
I want all these moments. I want only these moments. Because the only way to hold on to them is to hold on to her, and the way I want to hold on to her is something like I’ve never felt before. I want to give her all of me, all the time, always, and what the fuck does that mean? Does that mean I don’t want to fuck other women? That’s ridiculous, of course, but the answer is right underneath me, coming down from her orgasm glassy-eyed and breathless.
I think I might only want Devi.
I think I love her in a way I’ve never loved anyone else before.
I think I want to give her all of me. All of me. Meaning I don’t give myself to anyone else.
Because that’s one thing that the economics of porn can’t erase—you are sharing yourself, endlessly, over and over again. Private slices of yourself, and I want Devi to have all my slices, all the parts of me that I have to share.
A ball of panic clenches in my stomach, because I don’t know how to digest any of this. I try to push it all aside, but as I start rolling my hips into hers, I catch sight of my camera on my bedside table. It’s dark and unseeing now, but its presence soothes me and worries me all at once. Who is Logan O’Toole, really? And what does he want?
I bury my face in Devi’s neck, smelling her skin and my body wash and the slightest note of cinnamon, and I may not know all of the answers to those questions yet, but I know that all those answers start with the same woman.
“Did it feel good to come on my dick, baby?” I ask her, still rolling in and out, nice and easy.
“Yes,” she says dazedly. “So good.”
I move up onto my hands, nudging her legs open wider. I watch her as she watches me, her eyes on where we’re joined as I start pumping in and out, the thick ridges and veins of my cock glistening from her *. Her gaze transforms from contented to hungry, and I look down too, loving the sight of my cock stretching out her hole, of her legs open for me and just for me.
But no, that thought brings back the unanswerable questions, and so I instead focus on the fucking, picking up the pace and jabbing into her faster and faster, until I’m grunting and she’s gasping. Color is high in her cheeks, and I feel my balls tighten at the thought of coming in her like this, but I’m not ready, not ready at all. I want this moment to last forever.
So I slow down and change my strokes from short stabs to long, deep thrusts. I go so deep that I feel her cervix, and she lets out a half gasp, half moan.
“You like that?”
She closes her eyes and nods. “You’re so big,” she says in a tight whisper. “Even after I came. I thought it might be less tight, but I feel so full…”
“Such a brave girl,” I reassure Devi in a low, deep purr. “Such a brave girl to take such a big cock.”
She flushes under the praise, looking so bashfully proud and young that I have to duck my head and bite her shoulder to keep from looking at her face, because I’ll come in an instant if she keeps wearing that look.
“It’s the biggest cock you’ve ever felt inside you, isn’t it? Tell me how big it is. Tell me how big I feel inside you.” To punctuate my words, I thrust in deep, loving how tight her cunt feels around me, like a slick, hot vise.
Her eyelashes flutter when I hit that deep spot, and she moans. “It feels like you’re splitting me in half,” she says in a strangled voice. “I can feel you everywhere.”
I guide her legs up so that her ankles are hooked past my shoulders, and then I lean forward on my arms, driving down into her cunt. I can get so deep in this position, and I use it to my advantage, stroking and rubbing that special spot.
“Fuck,” she groans, turning her head from side to side. “Logan, oh my God.”
“I’m gonna make you come so hard, Cass.”
“Logan, I—I don’t think I can—oh God, oh God, oh God—”
“Look at me, baby. Just keep watching me, okay?”
She’s trembling hard, and I can feel the hard tip of my cock massaging her womb, kissing up against it over and over again, and I pull out just enough to drag the wide, crest against her g-spot before I push back in to press against her cervix. Her head is tossing, her thighs shaking against me, and I can tell she’s fighting it off because it feels too big, too intense.
“Devi, look at me,” I urge, and she finally does, her eyes wide and desperate looking. “That’s it,” I coax her. “Let me take care of you. Let me make you feel good.”