Each of my six senses were dancing excitedly.

I expected if the time came that we decided to engage in sex, that I’d be enamored by Cash’s muscles, chiseled physique, and interesting tattoos.

I was dead wrong.

Despite his breathtaking body, and the presence of muscles I had no idea he possessed, none of those things seemed to matter.

My eyes were feasting on his angular jaw, steel-blue eyes, and what little scruff had grown along the edge of his cheeks.

With faultless timing, his hips worked back and forth, filling me completely with each full stroke of his perfectly-sized dick.

His girth stretched me so wide I feared I’d be torn in two, but it wasn’t so painful I wanted him to stop. His length was such that each stroke reminded me of my physical limitations, but I didn’t wish he had any less dick to give me.

My sense of touch was slightly overwhelmed, but satisfied completely, nonetheless.

The absence of sexual banter left the sound of our breathing, the sex, and my noisy bed frame to fulfill my sense of hearing.

My nostrils flared as I inhaled the sweet aroma of our sex. Combined with his unique musky scent and the smell of my own perfume, the unique mixture drove me wild with passion.

Although I could still taste him on my tongue, I wanted more. I gripped his shoulders in my hands and raised my face to his neck. Upon tasting the salt of his sweat against the tip of my tongue, I eagerly pressed my mouth against his shoulder and cinched his flesh between my teeth.

In a sensual coma of sorts, I was incapable of doing anything but attempt to satisfy him with each gyration of my hips. In unison with his movements, I ground myself against him, hoping I could somehow give the same level of satisfaction he was providing me.

“You’ve got to stop that.” He twisted his neck to the side, pulling away from me. “You’re driving me nuts.”

“We’re even,” I breathed.

“Second time I heard that tonight,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

He pushed himself into me fully, paused, and then gazed into my eyes. “Does that feel good?”

“I love it,” I cooed.

“Your pussy is ridiculous.”

The look on my face must have caused him to rethink his statement. Before I could ask for clarification, he gave one.

“Good ridiculous, not bad ridiculous.” He withdrew his entire length and then shifted his eyes between my legs. “You’ve got a pretty little pussy, but it feels even better than it looks.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m glad you like it.”

Slowly, he slid his length inside me until the tip met the soft tissue of cervix. I drew a choppy breath and closed my eyes. “Jesus. That feels good.”

He let out a sigh. “Tell me about it.”

Lying flat on my back, I raised myself onto my elbows and peered toward the action. His chiseled torso was pressed tight to mine, preventing me from seeing anything but the eight-pack of abs that he’d undoubtedly spent a lifetime developing.

“Can you raise up a little bit so I can watch?” I asked.

He arched his back, lifting his torso in the process. As he raised his cute little ass in the air, I watched his shaft pull free, exposing one glistening inch after the other. When the tip slipped past my pussy lips, I unconsciously drew a shallow breath.

“Do it,” I whispered.

“What?”

I looked at him, and then between my legs. “I want to watch you fuck me.”

He grinned a sly grin. “Okay.”

Slowly, and rhythmically, he began. I raised my hips and gazed between my legs. In and out, his entire length traveled, bringing me closer to climax with each stroke. Seeing his girth stretch me open was nothing short of a miracle, and I found it fascinating.

Every woman wants to believe her pussy is tight. I knew mine was, because for the last five years, sticking one finger inside of it caused me to come repeatedly.

Watching his thick dick disappear inside of me over and over was driving me insane.

“Faster,” I breathed.

He increased his pace slightly. With it, each stroke became fractionally more intense.

I fixed my eyes between my legs. “Faster.”

I watched his slippery shaft as he pulled his hips back, then held my breath with every forceful thrust. Each time his hips slapped against my inner thighs, the breath shot from my lungs.

I glanced up. “Harder,” I begged.

Washed with intensity, his face wore a slight – yet satisfactory – grin.

“Okay,” he said.

He pounded himself into me, slamming the soft skin of the tip of his dick into my cervix with each powerful thrust. Every stroke brought with it a savage grunt. Having seen all there was to see, and knowing I was on the cusp of bursting, I closed my eyes and relaxed onto my back.

“Bite my titties,” I begged as I collapsed onto the bed. “Please.”

Maintaining his pace, he fucked me like he was mad at me, which was exactly what I had hoped for. His mouth moved back and forth between each boob, sucking and nibbling until the combination of everything simply became too much for me to handle.

My body tensed, my eyes opened, and my pussy clenched his dick like a vise.

“I’m gonna--”

He lifted his head. “That makes…two…of us.”

With his eyes locked on mine, and his hands caressing my breasts, he worked his hips back and forth methodically until my body began to tremble.

A tingling ran through me. Overtaking my senses and leaving me brainless, it shot though me from head to toe. Incapable of doing anything but enjoying the fire that burned between my legs, I moaned. I shouted. I sank my fingers into the flesh of his muscular back.

And, I came.

Repeatedly.

I felt his shaft swell. Two strokes later, he erupted inside of me.

A period of time passed. A period I couldn’t identify. Still on my back, but now with his chest against mine and his head on my shoulder, I held him in my arms. Satisfied that he’d fucked me mindless, I simply held his body against mine, hoping the moment could last forever, but knowing it never would.

Fearing that he’d stand and put on his clothes at any instant, I closed my eyes and hoped he’d give me at least a few minutes of enjoying our bodies being pressed against one another.

“Have you got anything you need to do?” he asked, his tone soft and flat.

“No,” I whispered.

“I don’t want to seem like a weirdo,” he said. “But can we lay here for a while? Just like this?”

I didn’t move. I didn’t squeeze him, kiss him, open my eyes, or do so much as draw a breath. I simply gave my response.

“Yes,” I whispered.

I remained motionless, holding onto him – and to that moment – for an immeasurable amount of time. At one point, he hummed softly for a moment, reassuring me that he was awake, but he didn’t speak.

Then, as my eyes grew so tired that they began to flutter, he twitched.

Then, he fell asleep.