Page 143 of Dirty Like Dylan

It never did.

Usually, Ashley could fuck me longer. But Dylan usually fucked me first. I had no idea if it was an arrangement they’d made beforehand, or if it was just how they both preferred it. But it was almost always Dylan’s cock that filled me first, drove me to orgasm first.

And it was different than when Ashley fucked me.

Dylan had more mass. He had more muscle bulk on his body, and he felt different between my legs as he pounded into me.

It also felt different in other ways.

The truth was, Dylan just turned my head on in ways that had me primed for orgasm before he’d even touched me.

Dylan turned my heart on.

Ashley didn’t do that to me.

Ashley was harder. He fucked harder, in general, but his body also felt harder between my legs. And sometimes I could feel his piercing, hitting me in unexpected ways, in ways a man’s cock had never done before.

If I’d never had Dylan, sex with Ashley would easily have been the hottest sex I’d ever had.

But I did have Dylan.

I had him right now.

Alone.

And I wanted to enjoy it—like all fucking day.

But every time I opened my eyes and actually looked at him, at his beautiful face, tensed with lust… or let my hands drift over his skin, the heavily-muscled curves of him… or let myself actually focus on what he was doing, his strong body drilling between my legs, his big cock filling me as he kissed me everywhere he could find skin to kiss… as he pushed me back and held me down against the couch, his hands on my wrists… I knew I was going to come—too soon.

Fuck…

He rolled his hips and started stroking in and out a little harder, teasing me as he skimmed his lips over my breast, his breath tickling me… and I totally lost control.

My pussy squeezed around him, my thighs tightening on his hips, and the explosion gripped me… a current of pleasure radiating out from my pussy and up my spine, hitting me in the head with a smack of bliss.

Then I actually came.

My pussy convulsed and I screamed. My body spasmed beneath him.

I saw his face above me, dimly, his eyes on mine, and heard his groan of pleasure. “Fuck… so sexy…” he murmured, as he watched me roll in bliss. My head rolled around on the couch cushion. My pussy fluttered around him as he kept fucking me.

I was lost in bliss.

All I knew was Dylan fucking me… and I never wanted it to stop.

Eventually, he slowed, than stopped his thrusts. But he was still hard, still buried inside me. He was looking down at me, one hand drifting down over my throat, smoothing away the hair that had stuck to my sweat.

When I could speak again, I panted, “That was… the longest orgasm… I’ve ever had…”

And his eyes sparked with golden flame. “Let’s give you another one,” he said.

I was limp, destroyed, but his body was still tense between my legs; he hadn’t come yet, and he started fucking me again, merciless, driving me back up toward that delicious peak, despite my feeble—and quickly abandoned—protests.

“Come, Amber,” he commanded me softly, still watching me. “Yeah… like that…”

And this time, when I came, he sped up his thrusts and drove into me hard, over and again, as I screamed. He groaned and buried his face in my neck, and I felt his cock stiffen, jerking inside me as he joined me, flooding me with his warmth.

I heard him say my name as he dragged his teeth lightly over my skin.

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