"46" the number escapes my lips as a breathy moan as he holds me in his arms, "we can't stop there" His eyes find mine and darken as he grins. He can read my thoughts. 46 is too close to 50. He parts my legs and brings his hips to mine as I fight from floating into oblivion.

I struggle to concentrate on the movie as his fingers gently tug on my nipple. My back presses into him as we sit together on the couch, his arm across my shoulder, reaching under my top to play with the soft skin of my breasts and my nipple.

I moan softly, the sound of the movie veiling my noises from the others in the next room. My eyelids feel heavy and my lower abdomen stirs with desire as he plays gently with me. The warmth in my stomach builds, travelling down until I can feel my clit pulsing with each tug.

The rhythmic pulling causes my hips to thrust involuntarily and I feel my first orgasm of the evening building. I gasp slightly, I've never cum from just nipple play before, is this really going to happen here? Now?

Yes. Oh yes, it is. I scream yes in my head as he continues to tug and roll until my orgasm flows through me and my legs start to shake. Fucking hell.

...

Silence is not my strong suit, but the situation necessitates that I muffle my noises as he slides his tongue between my legs.

The movie abandoned, we have made our way to the bedroom and he feasts hungrily on my pussy as I start to spasm beneath him. Holy shit. My body is super responsive tonight, it feels like seconds between his first circle of my clit and my release.

"Two." I look down at him and grin. We've spoken about keeping count, but I always forget. We joke about counters and sharpie marks to keep track of my orgasms, but we inevitably get caught up on the moment and numbers muddle in my head.

His brows raise and he stops the rhythmic movement of his tongue momentarily to rumble, "that's MY good girl", before resuming the delicious pace.

My eyes roll back and my fingers dig into the pillow on either side of my head as the next orgasm rolls through me.

"Three"

...

I'm fighting for my life.

"You are not going to die", he says, hand on my sternum as he pounds into me.

My head rolls side to side as another wave of pleasure vibrates through me.

"What if I do?," I gasp, "I think I'm going to die"

"You are not going to die," he growls, "look at me. I've got you"

The thrusts persist and my pussy barely stops contracting before it tightens again, clamping down around his cock, forcing a moan from his lips as I cum again.

"How many?"

"23", I whine with pleading eyes. I don't tap out. We know the only way for this to stop is for him to choose to or for one of us to safe word and I'm not there yet.

"Well, I only like round numbers", he smirks.

...

We get to thirty. My body relaxes. My insides exhausted for the constant contractions. My brain breathes a sigh of relief.

He doesn't stop.

"Thirty", I say again, a little louder.

"Oh I know," he has fire in his eyes, "would you like to tap out?"

"No," I pout, my exhausted body fighting to reach yet another climax, "I dont tap out."

"That's because your my good girl," there's pride in his eyes, "my perfect little fuck toy. Cum for me."

He loses me, my eyes rolling as I tip over the edge once again.

...

I'm fucking glad I drank a lot of water today. The waterproof sheet beneath me is soaked, yet my pussy is still slick as he alternates between his fingers, cock and tongue. Every orgasm hurling me against the pearly gates.

"Stay with me, babe" "Thirty... five," I manage to whisper

...

"My. Perfect. Fuck. Toy." A word for each thrust. I'm such a good girl. I'm such a perfect fuck toy. I'm taking him so well. I'm his. All his. "Thirty eight," I whimper.

He rocks against my cervix. He grinds into my swollen clit. My body opens, stretching around him. We fit. We're made for each other. My brain takes flight, leaving my body to convulse with pure pleasure.

...

I've forgotten my own name. He helps me to count. Forty four. Forty five.

...

Forty nine. What the fuck. My consciousness is tethered to my body by the finest golden thread.

My uterus aches from more contractions than it took for me to give birth to both my kids. Combined.

Each orgasm rips through my body and mind in a different way, from the slowly stoked fire of a clitoral orgasm, to the coaxed wetness of a finger stroking my g spot. From the soul explosion of him pounding deep inside me to the soft rhythmic hip rocks he does that feel like they inflate my abdomen until I burst.

My ankles are on his collarbone, one strong hand holding them in place, his other arm extends to the headboard. His eyes locked on mine.

"You take me so well, such a good girl. Fuck yes, just like that."

His cock slides in and out of my pussy, hitting the perfect spot. I fight to remember how to breathe as his hips drive into me, the muscles inside me getting tighter with each delicious thrust.

"You're doing so well, my perfect fuck toy. Mine."

I feel it building. A warmth that draws from my extremities into my core and down to the soft, soaking part of my body that takes him so well. His pace quickens as my pussy starts to contract and my eyes slide away from his face. They slide back, desperately trying to retain eye contact with him as I climax to no avail.

"Fifty", I whisper in his ear as he finally allows himself release, his cock pulsing deep inside me while I start drift off.

"That's my good girl", he kisses my forehead and pulls me to his chest as I slip into dreams, "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."