One-Night Stand - Chapter 2

I didn't wait any longer, leaning down to lick a long stroke from bottom to top. She jerked, clamping her thighs tightly around my head. My tongue wrapped around her tiny, hard clitoris, sucking softly at first then building in strength. She cried out loudly, clutching the sheets as her hips instinctively rose to meet me. Just a few minutes later, she was trembling violently, her juices gushing hot across my face with that distinct, musky scent.

"Ahhh... I'm cumming... I'm cumming..."

Before she even had a chance to catch her breath, I rolled her over, placing a pillow under her stomach so her hips were elevated. My cock had been rock-hard for a long time, the head glistening with her saliva from earlier under the bar (she had knelt and taken me right in the dark corner of the club before we left). Now, I pressed the tip against her wet entrance and pushed gently. She let out a long moan of pure pleasure.

"Put it in... stop teasing me..."

I thrust forward in one hard stroke, burying it to the hilt. She screamed, but it was a scream of ecstasy. Inside her was burning hot and tight, every muscle clenching around me as if refusing to let go. I began to thrust, slowly at first, then faster and faster. The sound of slapping skin blended with the rain outside the window. She turned her head back, her eyes hazy with lust:

"Harder... I can take it... tear me apart..."

I grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, and thrust like a machine. Every strike against her cervix made her scream, scattering juices across the bedsheets. I changed positions, having her straddle me with her hands braced against my chest. She bounced frantically, her long hair flying, her breasts bouncing right in front of my face. I grabbed both breasts, squeezing hard and stretching her nipples out. She moaned incoherently.

"I'm close... almost there... baby..."

I flipped her onto her back, pinned her down, and thrusted continuously. The urge to climax rose, and I pulled out just in time, shooting thick, hot streams of semen across her stomach and chest. She wiped it away with her hand, brought it to her mouth, and licked it clean, her eyes still fixed on me with a provocative look.

"Sweet... next time, you have to cum inside me..."

We lay there, panting, while the rain outside still hadn't let up. She pressed close to my chest and whispered:

"I'm Hannah... so glad I met you in this rain."

I kissed her forehead: "I'm Donald... and I think tonight is just the beginning."

That was the night we first met—a rainy July night in a small hotel down the street. From then on, we stuck together like two magnets. Every weekend, she would text: "It's raining, babe... I'm starving again..." And I would rush over, no matter where I was in the city.

Two years later, we were still together. Still the same rain, still the frantic nights in our private apartment, or sometimes the old hotel where it all began. The only difference was that we were no longer in such a rush as that first night. We took our time, savoring every centimeter of each other's flesh, as if afraid that one day the rain would stop and the fire between us would burn out.

comité But I knew that as long as there was rain, Hannah and I would still burn each other to the absolute end.