Page 64 of Beautiful Crazy
I pull out of her drenched pussy, slapping a hand against her thigh. “Turn around for me, mama. Let me fuck you from the back.”
A sated smile tugs on her lips as she does just that. Dropping down until her upper half is lying flat on the bed and her back is arched beautifully, she shakes her ass teasingly before I sink back into her in one swift go. The angle change has my eyes wanting to cross. Bringing one foot up flat on the bed, my fingers dig into the flesh on her hips as I pound into her, relishing the slick sounds her pussy makes every time I thrust. Gemma’s moans are so loud and needy, they practically vibrate off the walls surrounding us.
Gemma’s pushing her ass back, meeting me thrust for thrust as she cries out, fisting the bedding beneath her. Wetting my thumb with her arousal, I circle her tight, puckered hole for a few moments before slipping just the tip inside. She groans, low and carnal, and it makes my cock throb.
“You like when I fill both your holes like this, mama?” My voice is husky, almost foreign to my own ears.
Gasping, Gemma cries out, “Yes! Give me more!”
“My girl’s needy for me to fill her, isn’t she?” I growl as I sink more into her tight hole. “Touch yourself. Play with that clit while I give you what you want.”
“Oh, god,” she pants, reaching a hand between her legs and rubbing her clit. “Fuck, Everett, you feel so good.”
“You feel fucking perfect, mama,” I grit out, feeling like I’m spinning out of control. Like I can’t think or breathewith the feel of her wrapped around me and the scent of her sweet pussy in the air.
Sweat drips down my back, and my chest heaves as our bodies collide and slap together. Gemma’s body tenses up before her legs begin to shake, and then I feel it… her pussy clenching around my cock, letting me know she’s coming yet again, just before she’s screaming my name. Hearing her cry out for me ignites something primal deep inside.
My heart pounds a thunderous beat as I keep my pace, and when my muscles begin to tighten and heat builds low in my spine, I know I’m getting close too. Dropping my head back on my shoulders, my balls tighten up as white-hot pleasure soars through every inch of my body. My release hits me hard, nearly knocking me off my feet, cock pulsing as I unload my cum deep in her cunt. It’s never-ending as my orgasm wrings me dry.
I pull out of Gemma, but I’m not finished with her yet. Flipping her over onto her back, her hooded eyes peer down at me as I drop to my knees in front of the bed. With her thighs spread apart, I’m able to watch as my cum drips out of her just-fucked hole, and the sight ignites something feral inside of me. Using my thumb, I push it back in before my lips wrap around her clit, tongue flicking against it, wanting another from her. I’m greedy for all she can give me. I want them all. I want her boneless, more than sated, when I’m finished with her.
Her thighs try to close around my head, but I push them open, glancing up at her. “No,” I growl. “I made a mess withmypussy, and I’m going to lick you clean while you give me another. Can you do that for me, mama?”
She shakes her head, brows clashed together as shesquirms. “No, I can’t,” she cries out, still trying to close her trembling legs. “It’s too much.”
I smirk, sinking two fingers into her cum-drenched cunt. “Oh, but I think you can,” I say darkly, curling my fingers and finding that spot inside of her. Her head drops back, lips parting as she lets out a desperate, needy moan. Removing my fingers, I lick a hot, wet path up from her entrance all the way to her clit before I circle around it a few times. The salty flavor of my own release mixed with her juices has my mouth salivating.
Gemma’s chest heaves as I continue to feast on her like I’m a starved man and she’s the first meal I’ve seen in months. The louder she gets, the breathier she becomes, the more my chest swells with pride. I love seeing her like this, so unabashedly sexual and gone for me, and as she crests higher and higher toward her release, her thighs squeeze me even tighter while her hand reaches down and fists my hair, holding me in place as she begins to rock herself against my tongue, taking what she wants. What she needs.
That’s my fucking girl.
I groan, knowing she’s getting close again, and as I feel her let go, feel her clit throb against my tongue, I lap up everything she has to offer me. Every last drop—her, me,us—I drink it up, unable to get enough.
“Oh, fuck,” Gemma pants as she scoots away from me. “I can’t fucking breathe. That was… holy shit.”
Chuckling, I climb on the bed behind her, bringing her back to my front as I pepper kisses along her bare shoulder. It’s slick with sweat, but I don’t care. We lie like this, embracing one another for quite some time as we steady our breathing. Eventually, we take a shower together,rinsing each other off before we find ourselves back in this bed, the lights off, and our limbs tangled.
I keep waiting for her to enforce the rules, for her to send me home, but it never happens. We fall asleep like that, and I swear, it’s the best sleep of my life.
Twenty-Seven
Gemma
Grace: The kids talked me into taking them to the aquarium in the city today. I’ll drop Sutton off once we’re done, but it won’t be until later. And FYI, sister of mine, I expect ALL the details. And wine. Wine and slutty details. ;)
Smiling while I sip my coffee on the back porch, I send my sister back a zipped lips emoji before setting the phone down on the table and enjoying the peaceful morning. Everett’s still asleep in my bed right now, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. No sleeping over was one of our rules, but after what we shared last night, the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms as I felt his chest move in time with mine with steady, even breaths, the last thing I wanted to do was put a stop to it.
It’s beenso longsince I’ve been held like that. So long since I fell asleep next to somebody who wasn’t Sutton, and even then, that’s rare anymore. This morning when I wokeup, Everett’s leg was draped over mine, his arm possessively thrown over my waist, and after the fog from sleep cleared, I panicked a little. I shoved the covers off, climbed out from under his hold as gently as I could, and I locked myself in the bathroom.
Not because of what we did last night, but because of what breaking a rule might have meant. They’re there for a reason, to keep things from being messy. I can’t do messy; I’ve already got my plate full, and if we’re doing this, it’s got to be a stress relief, not stress-inducing. But after I brushed my teeth, threw on my robe, and tossed my hair up into a bun, I realized breaking one rule one time doesn’t change anything.
The birds chirp in the distance, and it’s one of my favorite sounds. I’ve always been an early riser, at least since becoming a mom. After Dylan died, it was the only time I had to myself when I could write and get anything done before Sutton woke up for the day. I remember when he was born, the early mornings were rough. I dreaded them. Once I adjusted to parenthood, I learned to find the beauty in them. In the quietness that comes with the early morning sunrise. In the smell of the fresh dew laced around the grass. In the soft way the light just barely touches everything. And in the comfort I find curled up on the porch with a hot cup of coffee and one of my huge, fuzzy blankets as my senses all wake up.
Which is what I’ve been doing for the last twenty minutes. Last night replays in my mind, and even though I’m alone out here, I find my cheeks heating at the sordid slideshow and the various aches on my body. Sex with Everett is… it’s mind-blowing. I never knew sex could be like that. I’d like to think that Dylan and I had a fairly healthy sex life, but we were so young, and we were each other’s firsts. We didn’t know what we liked right away, and then, as we got more comfortable together, we had Sutton. And sex with a baby around is more than a little challenging.
There were things I’d read about in mommy Facebook groups—things women did with their husbands—or things I’d watch in porn on the few occasions that I actually watched it that I wanted to try but was too shy to ask. Not because I thought Dylan would make me feel bad about asking, but because I was young and inexperienced. It never occurred to me that sex and intimacy could be anything more than missionary with the lights off.
Sure, I had orgasms with Dylan, sometimes even more than one in a session, but with Everett… he makes me feel like my pleasure is the top priority. That’s different, and it’s empowering. Last night, I nearly lost track of how many times he made me come, and each one harder than the last. My body felt so wrung out, I thought I was going to pass out. I’ve never felt that type of pleasure.