She rode you. It hurt. But beyond you, in her, pleasure was building. Her nipples ground against your palms, and she groaned. Your cock felt like a throat, and her cunt was like hands crushing it, but at every stroke you could feel the waves of pleasure in her. You heard yourself moaning, but it was far away. She licked your neck, and that felt good, suddenly warm and wet. Each time she plunged down on you, crushing your cock in that incredible grip, you squeezed her breasts and the nipples in your palms were like wires connecting you to the bliss in her head, the blood and power flooding through her.

You don’t know how long it was. A long time. “Oh yeah,” she said, “oh yeah, Gary, oh yeah—”

She kissed you. That felt good.

“Wait,” you said when she broke the kiss, “stop—”

“How does it feel, honey?” she said, thrusting onto you again. “Does it hurt?”

The question pierced the numbness, and you felt your cock again. Her cunt pulled back and it was like she was ripping it off your body. You screamed, and you felt the muscles of her pussy start to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, felt her whole trunk shudder.

She threw her head back. “Oh!” she said. “Oh shit! Gary—Gary—” She looked down at you. Like a hungry woman at a slice of devil’s food cake. “Gary, come on three! One—two—three—”

You came on three, and it was like fire, like blood spurting out of you. An agony so sudden and total you couldn’t breathe.

And then she was coming too, and the white light was there, flooding you, flooding you with peace, washing everything away. It was her body that was the center, her singing nerves, her roaring heart, her body hugging you close, and her cry. She bit your shoulder where it met your neck, and you could feel it from her side, the pressure on her teeth, the taste of the lump of meat in her mouth. It felt good.

You slumped back on the couch and she lay on top of you.

“Ohhh…” she said.

You breathed. The soreness was gone. The white light was moving in you. You were dizzy.

“Now I get to say thank you,” she said, and giggled.

“Uhh…” you said. Then you laughed too. You didn’t know what else to do. You didn’t know what to think.

She swung off you and stood up, swaying a little, dizzy too. “I’ve got ice cream!” she announced, and went into the kitchenette.

You couldn’t move. She came in with Rocky Road and two spoons.

“Jill,” you said. “What was—I mean—?”

She dug out a scoop with one spoon. Her hair was kind of wild, a strand wiggling down over her nose. She was beautiful. She raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“I, uh, that hurt.”