Where are you?

He asked lazily.

I blew a strand of hair out of my face before answering, “I’m enjoying the afterglow of my orgasm. Do you mind?”

He smiled. “Don’t you mean orgasms? And yes I do mind.”

“What, are you counting? That’s so lame,” I said despite knowing exactly how many myself.

“If I counted the number of times you screamed my name, I’d have a far bigger total.” He looked really smug.

“If this were the sexolympics, then your goals would be higher too.” I slid my hand down his chest, through the crisp treasure trail.

He sucked in his stomach and we both smiled. He twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. “We’d have to practice everyday. Fuck and eat and sleep. That would be it.”

I breathed out, and his eyes dropped to my pink-tipped breasts that rose and fell with my breath. “I’d have to practice a lot with your boobs,” he said. I nodded.

He brought a finger to my nipples, tracing the shape of it, using the tip of his nail rather than his finger. The edge made me shift my hips against his.

He smiled. “If this were an event you’d be disqualified for starting early.”

I smiled back. “True. See if I were practising…” I lifted my hands to my breasts and cupped them firmly. His eyes were now riveted to them. Arching my back, I squeezed hard, twisting the nipples between my fingers. I looked at his face to see utterly arrested absorption on it.

I palmed my boobs, moving them this way and that. Squeezing them intermittently and pinching the nipples, pulling them out, almost tantalisingly within reach of his mouth. He stared, entranced, almost gratifyingly stupefied.

I reached over to the side, finding the bottle of lotion. Squeezing a bit out, I spread it all over my chest, using my fingers and palms to moisturise my breasts, leaving them wet and shiny.

His jaw seemed clenched, almost hard. I plopped another bit of lotion between my breasts and pushed at him. Rolling him on to his back, I slid down, until my boobs were level with his dick.

Sliding forward, I enveloped his dick between my boobs and began to move. His head was thrown back, his neck arched at first touch. Then he shifted, his eyes locked on to the action, like he couldn’t get enough of watching it.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Squeeze dick with boobs. Wiggle. Occasionally lick tip of dick. Let tip of dick touch nipples. Hold dick firmly in one hand and let it tap the nipples. He came, as I knew he would, within minutes.

I slid back up, only to have him pin me down and kiss the crap out of me. “Is that a gold medal kiss?” I teased when we came up for air.

“It’s a titanium medal. I love you. So much.”

“No podium, no proof of love.”