by Abbey Foxx
I can’t even remember the last time I came. It could even have been out on the boat.
Her tits are incredible. She has dark nipples that seem to be constantly in a state of semi-erection, and when I put them in my mouth, one at a time to be absolutely fair, they pop hard instantly and she can’t help but moan.
Lucy has a moan that sends shivers down my spine. I’ve heard some chicks sound like squeaky doors, others sound like wind through trees, but Lucy, her moan is the most animalistic, most debased, pure expression of raw enjoyment I’ve ever heard and it makes my dick swell right to the edge of its capacity.
I could spend hours sucking these nipples.
“That taking your mind off it.”
“My mind off what?” Lucy moans.
She’s a squirmer too. When she’s enjoying something she can’t help move her legs around, which not only do I find super cute, it means I have to hold her in place quite often. Denying her that movement makes her want to do it even more, which makes me even more eager to push her to the edge, just to see how much she can cope with it.
“You could probably make me come just by doing that”, she says.
“Really?”
“Really. That makes me so horny.”
“I think you could make yourself come just by thinking about sex”, I say.
“If it was sex with you, I probably could.”
“Lucky for you, you won’t need to.”
“If you don’t take my panties off now, they are going to melt.”
I don’t need telling twice, and even though I know exactly what her pussy looks like, it’s always nice to be reminded.
“I want to make you come with my tongue.”
“You make me come with whichever part of your body you like as long as when you come you do it inside me.”
“I can handle that, I’m sure.”
Lucy is happy to let me indulge her, and I’m just happy to have her here so I can do it. With any luck, there are a million moments like this awaiting us, a million more we can’t even predict.
It’s simple, but simple sometimes is best. We can fuck hanging from ropes attached to the ceiling, upside down in the shower, jumping out of a plane or at the top of a mountain when those moments meet us and seem right. Right now, Lucy on her back, her panties caught perfectly around one ankle, and me lying between her legs, one hand holding her open while the other runs circles around her tenderness, is absolutely right for here and now.
Lucy moans, her voice deep and guttural. She closes her hands into fists, sometimes with bedsheets between them, sometimes nothing else but atoms of squeezed down air, and I watch her legs tremble uncontrollably.
She tastes so good. It’s a taste I can’t describe because Lucy is unique like everyone else, but like everything else that this girl seems capable of doing to me, it turns me on at an internal level. Just sucking her would be enough to make me come, and I have to concentrate hard not to give over to her completely and let myself go.
“That. Fuck. There. Jesus.”
She is so wet that I can slide two fingers inside her almost without touching the sides. Lucy gathers them up welcomingly and then pushes down, her internal muscles working my knuckles like a wood chipper turning wood to sawdust. She’s tight but accommodating, strong, but supple too, and I can’t get enough of it.
Making someone come is empowering, making someone come that you love, one of the best feelings in the world.
“I’m going to-. If you. Carry on”, she moans.
“Carry on?” I ask.
I don’t stop my rhythm. Fingers moving slowly but purposefully in and out of her pussy, deep enough to stimulate her G-spot, not too deep to become overwhelming, my tongue nudging her clitoris, sucking it directly sometimes but only when I know she can handle it. I’m going to make her come against my mouth so I can feel the vibrations of her body right here against my lips.
“Oh my God, Alex. I’m going to-.”
“Come?”
With a deep, guttural moan of acquiescence, she comes hard, my fingers still up inside her, pussy convulsing, body twisting and squirming uncontrollably as she desperately tries to tame it and pull away from me. I feel it enter my body through my lips and then run all the way down my spine, sharp like electricity, until it finally buzzes out through my fingertips in pulses.
Her body is layered in a thin film of sweat and my mouth is gooey with her juices, my fingers trapped up inside her still with the expanding and contracting of her pussy muscles.
Momentarily tense as it beats out through her, Lucy finally relaxes as she lets it in, sinking visibly into the bed as though a huge weight has been lifted from her and only now she’s come can she fully relax.
I let her lie still for a while, my hand at her wrist feeling her racing pulse begin to return to normal. I’m so hard I could explode, but right now I’m not going to do anything until she asks me for it.
“Alex?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Two things.”
“Room for improvement?”
“No. Not this time.”
“Go on.”
“One, that was the best oral sex I’ve ever had, and two, if you’re not inside me in the next five seconds fucking me to another orgasm, I’m going to-.”
I don’t even let her finish the sentence before she’s flipped over, face down against the sheets now, her legs spread out wide around mine as though mid breaststroke, my dick bearing down on her like everything she’s ever dreamed of.
“That’s why I like you, Alex”, she says.
“Why?” I ask as I slide inside her, the sensation so perfect I have to hold my breath not to come.
“We’re completely on the same-. Fuck. Wavelength.”
“You mean, we connect.”
I have her hair in my hand, snapped back just tight enough she can feel it.
“Oh my God that is so-”, she gasps.
“Deep?”
“Fuck, Alex.”
I push her legs out even wider with my knees, just so she knows I’m fully in control, and like this, I can get so deep I’m almost coming out the other side. Lucy raises her ass into the air begging for more, her hands making those little fists again, grabbing at air and nothing, the movement reflected almost exactly in the squeezing shut of her eyes against what’s coming for her.
“I’m going to come like this, deep inside you”, I warn her.
“Mmmhmmmm.”
“I’m going to fill you so full of my cum you’ll be able to taste me.”
I lie flat on top of her to press my weight into her and trap her between me and the bed. I take her hand and spread it out below mine and then I interlock our fingers and squeeze them together.
I’ve missed this. Twice was never going to be enough for me and I’m so glad she knew it too. Lucy and I took our time, but now we’ve managed it, it’s clear there is nothing better in this world, for either of us.
Sweat grips her shoulders like dew on a freshly cut lawn, and beads down the divot her spine makes in her back, like condensation running down a pane of glass. I feel it hot and wet against my chest, her breathing beyond that, lilted and corrupt.
It’s coming for us both and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. I thrust deep, each movement pushing me a thousand times higher, my whole body sensitive to what’s coming, my hands trembling so much if I didn’t have them wrapped around hers, they’d be nothing but a blur.
Two months condensed into a single powerful moment, all that energy and expectation, all that disappointment and desire, coming at me hard in one go. When it hits me finally, when I can’t hold on any longer, and I feel Lucy’s pussy muscle explode in orgasm again, this time around my cock, I feel like the world has cracked in half, the universe has shown me its secrets, and nothing, from this moment on will ever be the same again.
Together, wrapped both in each other and each other’s orgasms, we make a sound that could be heard ringing out across the five boroughs of New York. I
have never felt anything as pure, certainly nothing as overwhelming, and as I lay there on top of her, my body at once tense and so relaxed I feel like I’ve lost control of every muscle, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven, only to get reborn immediately to experience the whole incredible thing again.
It comes in waves, and I have no idea how long I’m coming for. I lose sense of the perception of time, and everything else takes a back seat to the sensation of perfection coursing through my veins, so that what I’m finally left with, for an indeterminable amount of time, is a completely clear mind and an overwhelming sensation of happiness.
Eventually, Lucy makes a noise that pulls me back to reality and I realize she’s calling my name. I line her neck with kisses, and she shivers as I move across her.
“If it’s like that always, you can stay”, she says.
“This is my house”, I remind her.
“Then I won’t have to give you the tour.”
I slowly guide myself out, still hard because even when I come with this girl, even when I’m totally satisfied there is nothing more she can do for me in that moment, I’m still left wanting, hard at the possibility of what’s to come.
I lie next to her, lips pressed lightly against one another, not only so I can kiss her if I want, but that I can feel her breath on my lips.
“Feel better?” I ask.
“Mmmhmmm.”
She reaches for my hand to pull up against her chest.
“Two months was way too long.”
“And nine years was an eternity”, I say.
“How did you know?”
“Same way you did.”
“You think other people get this lucky?”
“Nah, only you.”
I kiss her quick before she can berate me, hold tight onto a hand that’s trying to playfully slap me.
“Arrogant”, she says, past kissing lips.
“Confident.”
“Sleepy?”
“Satisfied.”
“For now.”
“Then I hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the weekend”, I say.
“Well, you know, I thought you might last a bit longer so-.”
“You kinda left me hanging last time, and an ass as cute as yours. What more can I say?”
“Irresistible”, she says.
“Exactly.”
“You are dangerous.”
“Only in the wrong hands.”
Lucy falls asleep first, her body trapped between mine and the bed, her head rested perfectly in the space between my neck and my shoulder. As her breathing falls into a light, hypnotic rhythm, I find that I’m not all that far behind her.
Twelve.
Lucy
I’m not sure if I’m ready for a long-term relationship, even if Alex is. Marriage, living together, babies? It all sounds so ridiculously grown up, so completely incongruous to what I’m used to.
Ok, I’m going to rephrase that. I’m more scared of a long term relationship than Alex is. It sounds ridiculous even thinking it. We are talking here about Alex Vann Haden, the man who by his own admission some years ago, declared himself perennially single. The man who used to have relationships in the blink of an eye, who would move from one girl to the next as though moving from his living room to his kitchen. I know that’s in the past now, and I know Alex is a completely different person, I guess it just takes a bit of getting used to.
And me? I’m just as perennially single, but for completely opposite reasons. I’m not used to having a boyfriend, even though we still haven’t labeled exactly what it is that we’ve got going here with each other. We’re going slow, but that still means fucking each other at every opportunity, spending every single waking moment together, and generally behaving like every single couple in the world does.
We argue about stupid shit, and then we make up and have the best sex either one of us could imagine.
It’s perfect, but perfect’s scary sometimes, and being the cynical reporter than I am, I’ve learned to be mistrustful.
The truth is, I’m over the moon with Alex. He is nothing like the guy he was at college, even though some aspects of his personality remain the same. He’s driven, obstinate, desperate to win at all costs and will do anything in his power to get what he wants. Those are qualities I admire, because he manages to display them as qualities now, when back at college, he just came across as a selfish dick, who didn’t care about anyone but himself and his career in football.
Now, it’s obvious that he cares about me as well as his team, being the best at anything he wants to set his mind to, and making sure me and him don’t ever let the world get us down.
It’s been hard between us. Even in the short space of time we’ve been back together, I’ve been depressed about Dad, negative about what I want from us, even though deep down I know what I want is for us to be together, and the negativity I feel is fuelled by fear of something pulling us apart, busy with trying to get my shit back together and overwhelmed with work, which is just about pushing me over the edge at the moment.
Alex is supportive with everything I throw at him, and happy to look after me financially should the day job ever get too much.
Being a kept woman is very tempting, but it doesn’t suit my style and I think the worst thing anyone can do in any relationship is rely on the other person to the point of losing their own identity. I’m not going to let that happen, a) because I’m a strong woman and b) because it’ll set expectations between us I don’t want to put in place.
The shit with Dad is ongoing. They still haven’t got the headstone in place, there is a problem with the insurance claim, the lorry driver is trying to prove his innocence by blaming it all on Dad, and the security camera footage has somehow either been lost or erased over completely.
Sorting out his inheritance has been a nightmare too, because, in typical fashion, Dad didn’t leave a will.
Alex is away a lot with his team and the closer I get to him and the more I rely on his being around at all times, the harder it is to cope with his absences. I was conscious of that coming back to him, and too stupid enough to ignore my desires and heed it. Since the Jets game, and that incredible fuck session back at his house afterward, I’ve seen him as much as possible, which has basically been almost every night in the week, and two weekends out of the four he’s not been traveling. It’s enough for now. I know it’s enough for now, but every time he has an away game and has to go out of state, I get itchy until he comes back home.
It’s not that I don’t trust him, it’s that I need him and for me, that’s really fucking scary. That’s why, after only one month and a bit since our two-month reunion, I’ve got wedding bells ringing in my head, thoughts of moving in - even though nothing’s been said by either of us - and images of enough children running around we could make an entire football team.
That’s what I mean by saying I don’t know whether I’m ready, because my subconscious mind seems like it’s already made the decision, while everything else is catching up to the news.
I guess I’m complaining about nothing. I guess that if I didn’t want any of this, I wouldn’t have come back in the first place and I wouldn’t be here now, waiting for Alex to come home.
I know what it is too. He means so much to me that even the possibility that our situation could change is enough to make me worry if the pain of that is worth the pleasure I get from risking it.
And then I think again and realize I usually get introspective like this when Alex is away and as soon as he gets home, any doubt I’ve ever had about us gets obliterated as quickly as I see those gemstone eyes twinkling at me, he gives me that incredible hug and whisks me off to the bedroom with sinful intentions in mind.
I never tell him any of this either. They’re not doubts about my feelings for him - my feelings for him are more intense now than they ever were in college, and I never thought that would be possible with anyone let alone the same man - they are doubts about love itself, I supp
ose.
I just wonder how it can be so perfect, because I expect at any moment to have the carpet pulled out from underneath me, just because that’s the way I’ve gotten used to, the way life has a tendency of fucking you in the ass.
It’s happened to me before too. And if it’s happened once, no matter how strong your current relationship, there is always the chance it could happen again, no matter how unlikely it seems. There is always the worry that it might.
Alex has admirers in every state in this country. Ex-lovers in almost every city and I’m sure a ton more besides that, that not even the most dedicated of reporters ever found out about.
I can’t say that doesn’t worry me, especially now he’s back in the public eye, placing himself in a position of scrutiny, accepting invitations to all kinds of social events, modeling a variety of different underwear with a variety of different underwear models. It’s temptation city, and Alex hasn’t ever, in his past before us, been a man able to refuse something so appealing despite his appeals to the contrary.
He promises me he’s not playing around. He promises me that I’m the only girl he’s ever wanted and the only girl he will ever have from now on. He invites me to these things too, it’s not like I don’t have the opportunity to go along, it just doesn’t seem right and I want to make sure I can trust him without me around making sure of it anyway. It’s different if I’m there hanging off his arm, that’s not the real test of a partner’s ability to be monogamous. It’s when the other half isn’t there at all to keep a watch on them.
And it’s not as if the press don’t already know about us. I mean, Alex and I are like the worst kept secret of any football player and his most recent lover. From that very first day I went back to him, he never even tried to hide it. We’ve been all over the papers together, comments have been made by all corners, we have our detractors and our supporters and overall people have been lovely, but at the back of my mind, despite all of that to contradict it, I’ve always had a niggling doubt growing. Something like a shadow so small you barely notice it at first, that over the last month has just sat and waited patiently for the inevitable to happen.
