Page 167 of Icing on the Cake

Elliot shifts his body, and his dick hits my prostate dead on. A bolt of lightning shoots through my entire body.

“Fuck!” The word rips out of me with the same raw force as when Elliot fingered me a few days ago.

In the back of my mind, I wonder if my prostate has some kind of curse-inducing power, making me lose all sense of clean language. But the thought is fleeting because Elliot thrusts and hits that spot dead on again, sending another shockwave through me.

A stream of curses pours from my mouth, uncontrolled and primal. “Shit! Oh, fuck! Goddamn!”

My body convulses with each thrust, every nerve ending lit up like a Christmas tree. Elliot keeps the pressure on, driving into me with an almost mechanical precision.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

He stops fucking me long enough to take my hands and place them on his tiny, pert ass. I knead, pushing him deeper into me. He groans, and I feel it vibrate through his entire body and into mine.

Downstairs, voices blend into a drunken symphony, and I catch bits of laughter and shouted conversations. Nobody knows that I’m getting fucked into the new year—literally. Nobody knows that my boyfriend is making love to me. Nobody knows that I’m this close to releasing my own fireworks spectacular.

Nobody can hear me cursing up a motherfucking storm, either. “Fucking shit balls, Elliot. Fuck me harder. Make me your goddamn bitch.”

And for his part, he does just that.

The bed shakes with our movements, and I wonder briefly if it will collapse. Not that I care. Let it crumble beneath us; we’ll keep goingon the floor.

“Ten!”

The countdown to 2016 has started. My heart races even faster—if that’s possible.

“Nine!”

Elliot’s hips pick up speed, and my head bobs up and down, my hair flopping around wildly.Holy shit, I’ve become my bobblehead!

“Eight!”

My back arches off the bed, seeking more of the delicious pleasure that only Elliot’s cock inside of me can give.

“Seven!”

Sweat drips from Elliot’s forehead and into my open mouth. It’s salty as I swallow it down, but I don’t care. I love it.

“Six!”

I study Elliot’s face—his fogged glasses, his parted lips, his eyes shut tight in concentration—and my heart swells with love for the beautiful librarian who has given me everything.

“Five!”

A hard slam into my prostate causes my breath to leave me. My vision blurs around the edges, and I realize I’m about to have the most intense orgasm of my life.

“Four!”

Elliot leans down and captures my lips in a kiss. It’s messy and desperate and shuts up my new favorite curse word—motherfucking hell—before God smites me for being so crude.

“Three!”

Elliot whispers my name in my ear, and my toes curl even more. I don’t know how it’s possible; it just is.

“Two!”

The world slows to a standstill, and all I see is Elliot. All I hear is his broken gasps, his balls smacking my ass, and my high-pitched, drawn-out whine as I reach the point of no return.

“One! Happy New Year!”

---