Alaskan Exposure by A.S. Fenichel Page B

from his deft fingers. Her pussy
clenched on the emptiness that yearned to be filled.
    He leaned forward and captured her gaze once again. “Tell me
you want me. Tell me that this is what you want too, baby.”
    “I want you inside me, Kyle. I don’t know if I’ve ever
wanted anything as much.” As if for emphasis, her hips rose to meet his
suspended hips.
    He pressed his head to her opening. “You don’t know how good
it is just to hear you say those words.”
    One torturous inch stretched her and then slid back out.
    She cried in protest of the emptiness, before he moved
forward again giving her another inch and pulling out. Her body arched up to
meet each thrust. Her pussy tugged at his shaft with each drive.
    “Kyle?”
    “Tell me what you want, baby?”
    “More,” she gasped.
    He thrust in, giving her all of him, stretching her tight
slit. He held perfectly still allowing her to adjust to his size before pulling
back and thrusting inside again. “Charley, you feel so good. I think your pussy
was made just for my cock.”
    “It was,” she cried quietly.
    “Say it.”
    Her hips met every thrust. Her body clamped around him
needing more. Her pleasure renewed, and she again felt the build of an orgasm.
Her legs shook with need.
    “Say it,” he commanded.
    “Your cock was made for my pussy.”
    “Goddam, that’s hot.”
    Surprisingly, she thought so too.
    She was rewarded for her dirty talk with hard, fast pumping
that was nearly enough to send her into her third rapturous moment of the
night. Her pussy ached for more of him. All her earlier doubt had left her.
Only the moment and Kyle existed.
    He held back, pressed his chest into her breasts and rolled
until she was straddling his lap. She squealed in surprise at the unexpected
move. His cock probed deeper inside her with the new position. She
automatically rose on her knees and plunged down taking him deep inside her.
She reveled in the control being on top gave her. Leaning forward, she put her
palms on his chest and rocked her hips, changing the angle of his penetration.
The sensation and power was heady.
    Charley had always told her ex that she didn’t like being on
the top. What made this different? Why was sex with Kyle so erotically charged?
His body fit hers perfectly. His desire to give her pleasure overpowered
everything else. Somehow he knew her body better than she did.
    He gripped her hips and helped her set a steady rhythm. Her
pussy clutched with every pump and fuck. Again and again he stretched her to
her limit. Rising back up on her knees, she threw her head back and let him
speed up the timing. She was so close to coming again. With one hand he
continued to set the pace but with the other, he touched her clit. She cried
his name. He rubbed harder and faster.
    Gasps and exclamations she had never heard from herself
before flowed from her mouth unchecked.
    The ecstasy crashed over her, but she continued to rise and
fall on his hard cock until her pussy’s clutching took him over the edge as
well. She didn’t know if his eyes had stayed open or not. She couldn’t think
about watching him come the way he had watched her. Her body shook and clamped around
him tightly. His grunts of pleasure told her he’d not been disappointed.
    Lifting her hips up and off, she rolled onto her back next
to him. Immediately her pleasure was replaced by the knowledge that she had to
get dressed and take the walk of shame back to her own stateroom. She felt the
heat of her blush from her cheeks down to her breasts. She’d hardly recognized
the woman who’d just made love with Kyle. What was wrong with her?
    Pushing up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. She
tried to get her body to calm. She didn’t want to be some silly, blushing idiot
as she left him or let him know how deeply the experience had affected her.
    “Don’t leave.”
    She was so shocked by the plea, she turned and looked to
make sure he was actually awake and not talking in his