The slip and friction was exquisite, but she couldn't come like this. She needed…
"Rick. Baby."
She switched to a fierce grind. He gripped her cheeks, him the tips of fingers nestled deep, pushing and pulling, trying to get her there.
"What, sweetheart? Tell me."
"It's so good. I can't—Help me."
She gripped his face with both hands, hers contorting with pleasure. She was trying to tell him. It was hard when the head of his dick hit that spot. It was all she could focus on. That and the desperate desire to come. But she couldn't come like this. She needed more…
"Tell me, Chonne. Tell me what you need."
"I can't. I—"
He wasn't thrusting as much as he was burrowing. Their pelvises barely came apart. It was a mutual rutting. Her digging down, him digging up. It was so good. She was so close. Just a little more.
And Rick, her love, her sweet love who knew her pussy so well. He separated their torsos, leaning his back against the couch cushions but keeping her in the same upright position. Her breath caught at the new angle.
"Rick. Oh God."
Gripping her cheeks to keep her planted against him, he lifted her hips off the couch and slid down, just a little, creating a slanted angle. When he settled, her sensitive clit pressed against his pelvic bone. And she felt it. The firmness of him, his slick pubic hair—her doing, of course. She sobbed in relief.
"There it is," he said. "That's it, sweetheart. Take what you need."
Her hands pressed to his chest, she made frantic, harsh circles with her hips. Her breathing grew sharper, louder. Rick gripped her wrists, matching her grinding. And he always got so filthy and desperate when she was about to come.
There you go. Take it.
Fuck, Chonne. Fuck. Goddammit.
(As her breathing grew shrill) I know. I know.
Come on. Let it go. I got you.
He slipped one had behind her head, forcing her to look at him.
I love you. I love you so fucking much.
Jesus.
Fuck, Chonne. I can't…come on, baby. Come on.
You're gonna make me come. Fuck. I'm gonna come.
And when she threw her head back, her mouth open, he knew to anchor her and grind up just as hard as she was grinding down.
"Oh God," she said, breathless. "Rick. Baby. Yes. Yes. Yes."
His filthy words turned into a series of deep, resounding groans and whimpers. They shudders and bucked against each other. She swiveled her hips until the pulsing dissipated.
He welcomed her as she collapsed on top of him, her face borrowed in his neck. Though exhausted, he wrapped his arms around her. He liked the weight of her and she liked the pressure of his embrace.
Eventually, she lifted her head to press delicate kisses across his face. His cheeks. The bridge of his nose. His swollen lips.
"Thank you," she said.
He grinned with the joy of a man who'd just been fucked well.
"You ain't ever gotta thank me for that."
She laughed and pressed her mouth to his.