Page 9 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
I send a prayer of thanks when he melts into it as well, laying me back down and settling his weight between my legs and on top of me. Both my hoo-ha and weak abs thank him.
On a breath, he moans, or maybe I do. Our light movements, tongues, and delicate nips with teeth are so in sync that I can’t even tell who’s doing what. This kiss takes me out of my head, away from my constant refrain of frantic thoughts and self-doubt.
This kiss is so different from any other kiss, it might as well be my first.
I like it. But I also don’t.
It’s too… something.
Mentally, I pull back. Physically, I reach down and finish undoing his pants, cursing him when I have to lift my legs up again so I can use my heels to help push the waistband down over his butt.
Blindly, I reach out with my left hand and find the condom.
“In a hurry?” Bodie trails kisses down my neck, his movements still soft and tender.
I use my mouth to tear the corner of the package. “If you’re not, I’m gonna get offended.”
“Oh, I’m in a hurry, but I also want to enjoy every minute.” He sucks on the peak of my breast, his tongue flicking over the nipple. Forgetting what I said about boobs being lame sex organs, I moan, almost dropping the condom.
An odd panic begins to build inside me. Like if I let myself lose control, get lost in his touch, I’ll be allowing an intimacy to grow that I’ve never felt with another one-night stand—hell, that I’ve never felt ever.
I squeeze his dick hard.
“Jesus.” His forehead drops to my collarbone, his shoulder muscles tensing like he’s fisting the covers.
Taking the reprieve from his mouth, I slide the condom on.
It takes longer than usual, and just as I suspected, his dick is life-changing. Girthy.
I’m both disappointed and relieved I don’t set eyes on it.
He takes my mouth with his again, this time more aggressive, as if I’ve pushed him to the edge. Instead of a sense of relief at the lack of tenderness, the panic continues to grow.
Planting my heels in the bed, I push up, thrusting his dick inside me.
Both of us freeze. Him surprised, me impaled.
Holy hard cock.
Bodie finds his voice first. “Did you just top me from the bottom?”
In answer, I practice my kegels.
“Fuuuuck.” He rises up, pushing his weight into his forearms on the bed, the movement settling him even deeper inside me.
His cock might break me in two.
It would be a glorious death.
After a beat, Bodie begins to move, and I lower my heels, letting him take over.
But the slamming and pumping I expect doesn’t come. He circles, presses, undulates. Sex with this guy is like riding a wave, the tide threatening to take me under.
The rise of a new orgasm pulses where his pelvis rubs against me. It is scary how badly I want that pleasure to take over me while we’re connected. To just let him take control, to give myself over to it.
Hooking my right heel over his hip, I push off with my left, rolling him onto his back.
Once settled on top, I look down, surprised I don’t have a six-pack from all my efforts or that his dick didn’t rupture my cervix.
