Madeline pulls her hair back with her left hand, looking at the wall with a smile. It’s just now that I notice she’s reaching into her skirt from behind with her right hand. From the looks of it, she’s caressing her own pussy gently, maybe not fully consciously.

At this point, she’s all about maximizing the moment.

But I can make it so much better for her.

Madeline’s still on her knees as I drop to the floor, on my own knees, so we’re at something approaching eye level with each other.

I’m trying to think of some clever banter. Usually this shit comes to me so naturally, but now I’m mentally running through all the possibilities as fast as I can.

Should I go funny? Sincere? Seductive? All the above and then some?

My train of thought is derailed in the best fucking way possible: with another greedy kiss. Again, we both just seem to be in agreement that it’s time for that to happen.

This time, instead of stumbling around the room while making use of our tongues, we collapse onto the floor fully, with Madeline on top of me as we kiss, and the silky fabric of her skirt rubs in slow, exhilarating ways against my exposed, unyieldingly stiff cock.

Before ending the kiss, we roll over so Madeline’s below me.

“Your turn now,” I half whisper just after the kiss ends.

“Already? This suite is great, after all.”

“If you think it’s great now, just you wait. This suite’s about to get fucking mind-blowing.”

I don’t wait for Madeline’s reaction. I just begin sliding down the floor, moving down her body until I’m looking right at the print of her skirt.

I start moving the skirt up Madeline’s never-ending legs. This time she helps move the process along by grabbing and lowering her panties past her knees.

And then she just rips off her fucking skirt in one fluid movement and throws it across the room.

Jesus Christ. Just when I was thinking I couldn’t be any more fucking turned on.

My hand makes its way straight to Madeline’s cunt with gentle deliberateness. I move my fingers smoothly up and down her left inner thigh, getting closer to her pussy each time but not quite arriving. Teasing. Driving her wild.

I do the same with her right inner thigh, and Madeline’s already beginning to writhe softly on the carpet, her breath picking up pace.

This time I don’t just keep it a tease, I touch her pussy for the first time, although this first time it’s especially subtle and brief, creating another sort of tease.

“Don’t stop,” Madeline demands quietly between breaths. And I don’t.

I start stroking Madeline’s pussy lips with the lightest touch I can muster. I continue for a few seconds as Madeline’s breath starts to come in shallow gasps.

When I finally reach her clit, Madeline lets out a low, slow moan. I pull my hand away, but Madeline doesn’t complain this time as she must know what’s next.

Bringing my face in close, it’s confirmed that Madeline is super wet. I start things off with a slow lick up her lips, making my tongue flat so I can taste as much of her as possible.

Another moan from Madeline—this one a few octaves higher. I give her another even slower lick, and she squirms in such a way that her pussy gets even closer to me. I don’t know if it’s intentional.

But it works. I start getting more aggressive, licking around the edges of her pussy, finding my way back to the center and finding her clit with the tip of my tongue.

Madeline’s increasingly animalistic writhing is fitting nicely with the rhythm of the moment, but something about her wetness—which by now must be breaking some kind of fucking record—is sending flickers of exhilaration from my busy mouth all the way down to my fucking toes.

When I give Madeline’s clit another flick of my tongue, she thrusts into it automatically, riding my face hard as she finally lets out a yelp of pure fucking ecstasy—uncontrollable and wild as she rides the wave of her orgasm.

I can sense the time stop for Madeline, her body and mind reaching a state of almost fucking transcendence. This is the type of shit I’ve been waiting for.

I lift my head up to watch the bliss ebb and flow in Madeline’s eyes as she reclines in wordless joy. She sits up rapidly, a bit startlingly, and directs the still-needy passion in her eyes at me.

I know my expression matches hers, because I don’t know if it’s just this very moment in this room right now, but it seems like I’ve never felt anything so fucking real or as intense as the fevered yearning surging through every pore, every fucking fiber that makes up all that I am. It’s fucking inexplicable, but it’s there nonetheless.

As I stare silently back into Madeline’s sweltering gaze, I know that my eyes are saying all of that and more.

There appears to be a jump in time, like a bad yet natural-feeling edit in a movie, when we instantly go from our intense, mutual stare to one last scorching kiss to bring us into the third and best act of the evening.

We’re quickly learning to anticipate the other’s movements better and work in harmony in the blind, tongue-locked state of our kisses. This time, instead of clumsily clambering across the room, we rise to our feet deliberately, our tongues tangled in passion, holding onto each other as if we’re the only thing keeping each other tethered to the Earth.

We both fall sideways onto the bed, our kiss never breaking. Madeline pushes me lightly, and I roll onto my back. I let her climb on top of me, her face fixed in a smile that could easily set the room ablaze.

Madeline grabs the center of my shirt, between the buttons with one hand, then the other.

No, don’t do it...I’ve already lost one fucking shirt to her. Actually, okay, yeah, do it. Please.

As if she’s reading my fucking mind—in fact, I’m pretty sure she is—Madeline tears my shirt open, sending buttons soaring in every direction. I hear some of them land on the carpet with muted thuds as Madeline’s soft, delicate hands explore my pecs, roving down to my abs as she lets out a quiet, breathy squeal of delight.

I grip Madeline’s tits with my left hand as I reach into the top dresser drawer, located ever so conveniently right next to the bed, and pull out a condom from the box resting there.

No matter what this honeymoon was going to actually entail, I don’t travel unprepared.

Madeline grabs the wrapped condom from me while my arm is in midmovement. I watch intently for her next move, which is to make a gorgeously sassy sneering face and bite into the wrapper with her teeth, tearing it open. Fuck yeah.

I know what comes next, so I glide myself up the bed to grant Madeline easier access to my cock, which is pointing right at her, urging her on. She makes quick work of rolling the condom down over my cock.

She knows what she’s doing, and she’s at that same beyond fucking ready point that I am.

Madeline starts by pinning down both my arms on the pillowtop mattress, and she continues by grinding her wet pussy against the underside of my fiercely erect cock. We both make almost feral moaning noises at the pure fucking ecstasy of it.

Once she can tell that I can’t take it anymore, Madeline slackens her grip on my arms, and in another one of those jump-cut edits, I’m hovering above her as she grasps the headboard in shock and excitement.

I steadily guide my cock into the place it’s now quite literally aching to go. When I first sink inside, just partially to start, the sensation of all-enveloping pleasure almost takes me by surprise.

“Oh my god,” breathes Madeline, who apparently feels the same way.

I slowly pull out.

“No, don’t you fucking stop,” she whispers.

Usually, my teasing buildups are where I excel, but this time we’re both just too fucking horny for any of this bullshit.

I do take my time guiding my cock back in, not to try and create some spectacle which may or may not be there naturally, but instead to not rush the moment, to take my time so we both get to luxuriate in paradise for as long as fucking possible.

“Oh my GOD,” Madeline repeats as I slide back in. Her words perfectly sum up the feeling that I’m getting as well—a carnal bliss that’s centered around my cock but is traveling throughout my body, seemingly throughout everything, making the world feel like it’s fucking vibrating again.

As I sink balls deep inside her, Madeline emits another squeal, this one not quiet or breathy but brash and piercing, building in pitch until it seems like the window might fucking break.

God, this is so fucking good.

I mean, I’ve had my share of women. Some leave an impression, some don’t. But Madeline? I’m quickly coming to the conclusion that I may not ever be the same after her. And the scariest fucking part? I don’t know if I want to be.