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Resolution: Good Text (A Resolution Pact Short Story) by Deana Farrady (11)

Chapter 11

 

I BLINKED RAPIDLY, FOCUSING ON TANK...on his beautiful, stern face. And my heart disintegrated as it hit me that he was asking if I was making love to the man or the celebrity. He wanted to know if he could trust me to know the difference.

I couldn’t believe I’d been such a dunderhead. I reached up a shaky hand to touch his cheek. "You’re Tank," I said irritably, because I hated being wrong. "And Rafail...but you’re more than just what you did or your avatar. You’re you."

And suddenly I saw myself more clearly as wellthat I was more than my art or the oddball sorority sister.

Thank you, New Years resolution, I thought silently. Amazing to think if not for Stacy's text, I’d still be cruising along on the sidelines, assuming I was meant to stay in the little groove I’d carved for myself. Instead, I was here, in this sweet man’s arms. Who knew what else was in store for me?

His eyes widened. "That’s my Ponytail." He looked at my mouth. "And you’re more than fuckable...and all those jocks are idiots." His cock pushed against me. "We’re going to know each other. We’re going to know everything." He pushed harder and my pussy tried to swallow him. "Aren’t we?"

"Fuck, yes!" I cried.

"Open to me...baby, open yourself…"

I spread wider and felt him drive deep, all the way in. He gave me that huge member whose dimensions I now knew from the inside out. I opened my eyes, stunned by how good it was. Tank was gritting his teeth. He bent down and kissed my mouth. But we were both gasping for air and couldn’t kiss for long, since we were too busy fucking the hell out of each other.

He kneaded my ass and growled. Loved the growling. Loved his hips circling and his eyes pinning me and his chest dripping sweat. I wrapped my arms around him and whined, "Don’t stop." Because in my life, when things got amazing, they stopped.

"I—won’t. Fuck—no—beautiful." He slammed into me with every word, and I splintered into shards. This time my orgasm rippled along his length. By some miracle, I did not black out with the bliss of that.

"Love it when you come." His hands grasped my thighs and I didn’t have any time to feel self-conscious. He was sliding my knees up to my chest, my calves over his shoulders. And now he went in deeper. This man knew how to fuck. I gasped. My heartbeat went bonkers.

"Tank...I can’t take it…"

"Do it again. Come again for me, Ponytail, let me see it," he urged.

He had a close-up view of my freckled breasts. It made me self-conscious when they shook with his thrusts. He smiled mischievously and dropped a kiss on my lips before moving to suck a nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard. Tank was not a tentative lover, oh, no. Thrills of sensation stretched from my nipple to my gut to my sex and down my legs. And that pang of self-consciousness dissolved.

Now I just wanted to squirm all over his cock. But clever man that he was, he slowed down his thrusts, teasing me by not pounding as hard as I needed. I started to get frustrated because I could hardly move this way.

He made a humming, approving sound that I felt on my skin, never stopping that slow, tantalizing ramming of his cock. Abruptly his mouth popped off. "Your tits are—luscious. Your description—of them—made me laugh. You don’t even know how gorgeous—you are—do you?"

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. I was going craaaaazy.

"Let me move," I gasped, flushing with pleasure at his compliment.

He eased my legs away and down, lifting up so we both could watch as his cock went in and out of my body. It was deliciously obscene. I decided I would draw us together this way. Lifting my eyes to his, I smiled, exquisitely aroused and happy as hell. I ran my palms over his wide, sculpted chest, marveling at the rich blond thicket of hair there. "You’re not shaved."

He rolled his eyes. Thrust. "I’m not competing." Thrust.

"I like you hairy. I feel like I know your body already," I confessed. "I know it was just sketching...I just always felt like I knew you...I guess that sounds dumb."

He cupped my cheek. "No."

I moaned as he hit a spot so deep I saw sparkles of light. I tightened. "Tank, I’m gonna come."

"Good. Do it. I want you moaning and clamping me and showing me you like my dick...my real dick." He pinched my nipple and nailed me harder, faster...and I heard my own helpless yelp.

He watched as I orgasmed. Even while it was shimmering through me, I felt Tank give it up. He started shaking, shouted out hoarsely...and then he proceeded to plow into me like my pussy was the answer to all his prayers. I loved that. We were coming together. It was so good. So good.

"Tank, oh my god, it’s...I can’t..."

His hands squeezed, stung, bruised my hips. He was past realizing how hard he was holding me. I smacked his arms and he released me even as he collapsed on me with a "fuck, sorry!" and a shuddering groan.

With his hands gone, I immediately missed them. I heaved up and proceeded to explode again. Yes, for the fourth time. I heard him expel a chuckle. He gathered me close, his body endlessly long and hot and sweaty, engulfing me, stroking my back and flank as I writhed in that one final, incredible orgasm around his still-half-hard cock. In that moment I felt treasured and totally pampered and, honestly, on the verge of bursting into tears.

On a great yawn, Tank whispered something sweet and life-altering into my ear. And I promptly fell asleep in his arms, his words sliding into my dreams, telling me this was just the beginning.

I think we must be in love, Ponytail. Nothing less would make us fuck like that. Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow, I’m teaching you to swim….