My Alexander

I thought of the muscles in his thighs and wondered whether we'd break it. The thought sent my pussy up yet another level, even before he pushed me lightly forward. "Lay down, Sophia."

"Yes, sir," I blurted, electric, my body sagging down onto the mattress. I stared wide-eyed at him standing there, a statue with a magnificently foreshortened dick pointing at me in accusation, as if to remind me that I was causing it. The thought took my already-juiced pussy and sent it into orbit. I made to reach up for it, needing to touch it once more, but he just stood there staring down at me.

"Tell me what you want." I could barely get the words out, staring at his nude body over mine. "I'm yours." My fingers found his balls again, nails light on leathered skin.

"Tell me what you like," he countered, all raspy with lust.

"I like what makes you happy," I managed. I could feel the little tickle deep inside my crotch, my pussy already leaking down through my taint. "It's what I want."

He nodded, a little distantly, then reached down for my mound like a customer picking a ripe fruit at the supermarket. I gasped at the firm pressure of his palm and fingers, the heat of his skin pressing down against my groin. I cried out. "What makes me happy," he repeated quietly, as if musing about what that meant, "is giving you what you like." My head hit the pillow, his hand pinning me to the bed. I felt powerless, and I loved that. And he knew: I could see it in his eyes, even as mine went blurry with lust.

His hand was the only thing in my world then, a lifeline to the rest of him, to his body and lips and dick, and I humped desperately up into his palm like a helpless whore while he watched me. "Oh my god," I quavered, gasping.

"You like this." It was a statement, his hand shifting slightly, and without any other warning I felt his finger spear far into my slit, pushing up inside me. I squealed and grabbed his wrist, holding him there. He stared down, his mouth starting to fall open now, amazed at how I writhed under him. "Fuck."

"Oh my god!" I screeched it that time, feeling the weight of his hand, the skill of his fingers, my orgasm already around the corner.

He nodded, licked his lips, and then moved at last. I had my eyes closed by then, but at the feel of his motion I snapped them open in time to see him bound up onto the bed, flinging my legs apart as though I had no power over them at all. As though I were a doll or a puppet, controlled by his hands and his will, but suddenly he was curling his strong arms around my thighs and lifting me to his mouth, my eyes wide as I looked down my heaving body and watched him drive his lips straight onto my cunt.

I thrashed against him, hopelessly lost in the focused pleasure of his tongue stabbing inside me. My heels drummed on his back, thighs clamping tight to the sides of his head as his hands found the rounded cheeks of my ass and gripped hard, holding me there so he could devour me exactly as he wanted to.

I could not move. I could only scream.

His passion controlled me, lighting the fire and then adding fuel quickly until I was hardly aware anymore where his mouth ended and my pussy began. I felt his tongue and fingers, vigorous inside me, exploring me with a sense of smug self-assurance, like a man walking the property he'd just bought. I felt his nose, pressing into the swollen flesh above my slit, prodding my clit from the other side of its hood, the pleasure stabbing higher and higher with each touch. I felt his eyes, fierce and level, pinning mine with an intensity I'd never seen. I felt his shoulders, pushing hard against the backs of my thighs, forcing me into a curl against the cheap headboard while he reared up, his face glistening with pussy, staring down at me.

I was helpless. Exposed. I loved it.

So I let him know, keening a long trailing cry as he moved up the mattress to attack my pussy again. "Yeah," I chanted, all guttural with my body constricted like that. "Eat it." I felt his breath on my cunt a split second before his hands clamped like iron across the backs of my thighs, and then he was right back in there with his tongue and teeth coaxing my clit out, my head rolling back and forth on the pillow. I had never felt so dirty. I was far past the point where a Chinese Mike would have been boning me, and my Alexander showed no signs of quitting. On the contrary: he was a man hungry, craving me, enjoying what he was doing.

The orgasm crushed me around the time he sucked hard on my clit with two fingers sawing in and out of the soupy wreck he'd made of my slit. It was almost a palpable thing, feeling like a sudden weight on my whole body, but centered on his head feasting at my snatch; heavier, heavier, and then suddenly lighter, my whole body feeling like it had been launched by a catapult into a soft, hot pink sky, now pulsing around me with a feeling of sheer bliss and contentment.

It felt like all my dreams had come true.

And still he ate, a man enjoying himself and enjoying his woman, licking me through it with long, confident laps along my slit. I felt tears leak from the sides of my eyes, something that hadn't even happened with Greg, and all of a sudden I needed him above me. Inside me. Face to face. I needed to connect with my man.

My legs came off his back with an awkward series of graceless flailings, like a praying mantis folding itself into a stump, my feet digging beneath his body in a wordless plea for him to get up on top of me. He stared at me a moment, frosty blue eyes above a face covered in my vaginal muck, and then lunged on top of me with a feral curl to his lip. I had barely time to gasp, still in the fading throes of my orgasm, before he wedged himself between my trembling thighs and angled his hips downward.

His cock trailed across a pussy still in spasm, my brain still lost in its pink haze as I became aware he was already an inch inside me. The feeling was exquisite, my arms scrambling to get around his body, mouth wide to accept his tongue: my vagina ached for him, welcoming him inside as if he was made to be there, his thickness filling my tight pussy with an intense stab of satisfaction. As if he was completing me, filling a lost and lonely space.

I was not lonely anymore. No, I was as close as I had ever been to anyone, my Alexander inside my mouth and my cunt, my own arms and legs locking him to me. I lay there in bliss, my clit flaring once more as he settled the root of his dick at my slit, and the realization that he was all the way in nearly set off a second climax on the heels of the first. I gave one of those porn-star moans, the kind that would have embarrassed me if I was with the usual guys I fucked, but this was different.

This was a man. He deserved to know what he was doing to me.

He fucked with fast, brutal strokes, that wide dick gripped hard by my pulsing pussy, each thrust driving a guttural moan from my gasping mouth. His face was a blur in my tears and closed eyes, fading in and out above me with a set, determined look in those penetrating blue eyes. I had no idea how it felt to him, but it was sheer wild ecstasy to me, a deep sense of carnal abandon that thrilled us both. "Oh my god," I managed, barely, my body shuddering with his impact. I had no control over myself. I'd given it all to him.

I loved that he'd taken it.

But he was slowing now, riding his shaft into me with long, almost tender strokes. He'd changed his motion, driving almost straight downward along my crazed clit, paying attention to me and how I felt. I loved that, my glee indescribable as I cupped his face in my hands and pulled him down for another searing kiss, my soul going out to him along with my tongue.

The sweat was standing out on his forehead now, so I licked it off. He had me back on the edge, my body in a state of suspended pleasure at the firm, eager violin-bow scrape of his rigid cock along my clit, and still I clung to him as though letting go would lose me my grip on life itself. He slowed more, each thrust coming as a rhythmic swoop, and then his lips were at my ear in a harsh whisper. "Ride me, Sophia."

I obeyed without a thought, my feet sliding off the backs of his thrusting legs, leaving me sprawled and ready to roll on top of him. He stretched his arms high after he'd pulled out, his penis smeared with the frothy pale proof of my extreme arousal, his sweaty body shining like a statue in the dusty window light. "You're fucking amazing," I blurted, my body still shaking to the aftershocks of what his mouth and cock had done to me.

He said nothing, sinking down onto my mattress, scooting his back around until his head rested on my pillow. I knew I'd be smelling him there for days after, plucking my pussy over the puddle we were going to leave on my sheets after I made him spurt. The thought gave me a wild smirk as I swung my numb leg over the top of him and grabbed his dick, standing it high to impale me. It looked impossibly thick and gloriously strong, a man's dick, a dick I knew I would be remembering with a shy smile for years to come. He nodded up at me. "Ride me," he commanded once more, his voice a horny mutter.

"Yes, sir," I smiled, raising my body over his and pulling his head to my slit. It felt good there, nudging at the gate of the gaping tunnel he'd drilled so perfectly into me, and suddenly I needed him deep once more. I slipped over his head and down his meaty shaft in a single quick hunch, feeling the slow easy tension as he split me open again. "Fuck," I marveled quietly. I could look down at him now in the low light from my bedside lamp, amazed at the way my flesh sank down over his, intoxicated when I saw his bushy pubes meet my skin. "Jesus," I whimpered.

He curved his hands over my hips and around back, cupping my ass, and I took pride in the look I saw in his eyes as he stared up at me. He was balls-deep in a young, flushed goddess, a woman eager for his sperm, desperate to give him pleasure. He cleared his hoarse throat as I settled onto him. "Do you still want to know how I labeled you? In my phone?"

I blinked, confused, then remembered that flirtation in the lobby at Silly PUTTy's. It seemed ages ago, completely unimportant now that I had his bare penis firmly clasped inside me. "I want to know everything," I breathed, propping my hands on his chest. The hair there was matted with sweat.

"I put you in as MP, in case my wife saw." He smiled a crooked sex-grin. "It stands for Minigolf Pussy."

"Yeah?" I rose slowly up his shaft, feeling the friction there, before sinking back down. He groaned. "This pussy?"

"You feel so good," he breathed, and I straightened my back to preen above him. His eyes were hungry now as they gazed at my tits. "So good."

"Just wait," I promised, exultant, feeling his sense of confidence spread through me, giving me strength of my own. I had done this. I had decided it, I had made it happen, and now I was going to finish him. This incredible man would empty his balls inside me, and I felt a quiet satisfaction as I realized I deserved it. "It gets better."

He responded with a hooded-eyed look of bliss, his hands rising up my body now, fingers reaching toward my shuddering nipples. I threw my head back with a long, moany gasp when I felt his firm grip there. I leaned into him, letting his strong arms support me as I felt him within. My body took over then, rising slowly once more and then falling back over him before I settled, grinding down onto his root, my hips in constant swaying motion. I gave him my best, my eyes strong and bold on his, and I could see I made him feel good. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly as I moved.

"You can cum in me, Mr Collins," I whispered down at him. "I want you to." I swooped across his body, riding with seriousness, with a purpose. I wanted his sperm. "Give it to me."

His fingers tightened on my tits, his hips hesitating, then matching my moves. He arched up briefly. "Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah." I churned above him and around him, sliding slow and even along his cock, my body giving him fierce animal pleasure. I sped up, the two of us feeding off each other's lusts, feeling the need to connect in that most primal, visceral way. He arched up and I sank down, endlessly, eyes riveted to each other in an unbreakable bond as I saw him start to lose it. "Cum in me," I chanted one last time, my nails digging into his chest as his legs kicked behind me, now spreading wide, now snapping closed, his body summoning up all its energy for that one transcendent moment when he'd flood me.

He grunted, but then it turned into one of those long, gasping sighs men do sometimes when they really, really want to blow, his hands falling back down to my hips and holding me down against his strong thighs, dick stabbing far up inside me as his eyes went wide. I felt it as a wild, jerky twitch in his shaft and a deep sensation of fullness within me, his sigh fading and then starting again, with another strong pulse from his dick. Then another. And another.

And I grinned, slumping down onto his chest, knowing he was mine. Right then? He was my Alexander. I was everything to him and he was everything to me, and as our lips met once more, his spent cock still plugging his semen inside me, I felt his arms encircle me and felt only bliss on that summer evening.

* * *

His penis was slicked with traces of me as I took it in my hand and tucked it safely back into his shorts, getting ready to send my lover back to his wife. I knew many things in that moment, as his cum ran slowly down my leg, and the thing I knew before all else was that I was all done with guys my age. But not yet done with Alexander Collins.

I already knew, in those moments as we snuggled after he'd cum in me the second time, from behind, that this was not going to be a "forever" thing. He'd suddenly tensed, twisting around to look at my clock, and I'd braced myself. "I have to go, Sophia."

No. A man willing to leave me after just a frenzied hour or so was not going to be a long-term prospect for me. But he'd taught me I could see, and want, and find, and capture a man I'd never have thought about when I was settling for the Chinese Mikes of the world, back before Greg stirred my pussy and then Alexander barged into it.

No more virgins, I promised myself. I needed older, more experienced meat. And now I knew I could go get it. With Alexander, I'd made it happen. Just me. And I knew I'd do it again.

* * *

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