My dick swells with her confession, and I pull her to me for a kiss.

I think back to a few weeks ago, and how timid Chloe had been about sex. Now, she’s got no issue telling me when and where she wants me to fuck her. It’s the biggest turn on. Right now, even if it means we’re late, there’s no way I’m going to deny her.

I cup her breasts; I’ll never get over how good the weight of her feels in my hands. My mouth captures a nipple, tracing its hard peak with my tongue, then sucking it deep and making her muscles clamp down even harder around my cock.

I grip her ass as I slam up into her hard, matching her rhythm over and over. My index finger teases under the scrap of lace between her cheeks. I move down until I can feel her wetness, where I’m sliding in and out of her, then back up to rim the tight, puckered bud there.

With the next thrust of my cock, my finger presses inside her back entrance.

“Oh. God.” Chloe moans.

Her head falls back. I can tell she’s close from the flush of her skin and the breathy sounds she’s making.

When Chloe’s orgasm hits, her pussy squeezes my cock so tight it’s almost painful. Her muscles pulse over and over, milking me good. One more thrust. That’s all it takes and I’m spilling deep inside her.

She collapses with a satisfied sigh into my chest, and I wrap my arms around her.

“That was…” I can’t even get the words out. I’m completely spent.

“Yup.” Chloe nuzzles my neck. “No words.”

I press my lips to her jaw, and let my hands tangle in her hair for a moment before I lift her head to look at her.

“I’d love to stay in this position all night, but we’ve got somewhere to be.”

“What?” She looks down between us, where I’m still hard inside her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I was about to tell you, but you distracted me.” I flex inside of her and she bites her lip. Maybe we shouldn’t go. I could stay here, buried inside her all night.

“Ugh, what could we possibly be doing at ten o’clock at night?” Her pout is adorable. And now that the brain fog from my orgasm is subsiding, I remember the plan.

“We’re going on a date.”

“Now?” She lifts herself off me, stands, then waddles to the tissue box on the side table with the grace of a newborn foal.

“I could grab those for you,” I say, not even trying to hide my smile.

“This works. Gravity is part of the process.” She shimmies out of her thong, then shoves a wad of tissues between her thighs. “You could have told me before, now I’m a mess.”