The best moments arise when someone does something that generates a positive reaction from the partner, and as a result of that reaction, the other partner gets more turned on, and does something that turns the other on even more. Rinse wash and repeat. That synchronization escalates, that one catalyst creating something nuclear. And neither you nor they can contain it. Before you know it you’re just a tangled web of sweat, limbs, cum, and oxytocin basking in the afterglow.

—————

“You’re so hard." Her compliments thicken my member. She suddenly feels tighter.

“Fuck, you’re so tight." She clamps down harder. Now it’s warmer. Wetter? Doesn't matter, much better.

“You’re so wet, you feel amazing.” She loves that, knowing how good she feels. She adjusts her angle. So wet now you can hear and feel it all. I glide in. It’s effortless, and welcoming.

“God, you’re so big. You feel so good sliding in me.” I go deeper, with purpose. I’m now hitting that spot. She melts into the bed. Eyes roll. There’s slight whimpers, a couple gasps. A lot of “Yes, right there.” God she’s so fucking cute. That contentment, that enthusiasm. I've edited this story a fair number of times, and it's been impossible to find the words to describe just how much this gets me going. It's easy to say while in her, but it really does maker her that much more fuckable.

She looks very happy. I’m now very happy.

We’re now pushing smacking against each other. There’s a steady rhythm. Lots of vocals, lots of claps. Harmonic for sure, making the best kind of music. Our own special hymn but there's nothing gospel about it.

I don’t want it to end, but it's now too good. I lower the tempo. But she’s having none of it. She starts to take over, bringing the intensity to a crescendo.

Breathlessly I mutter, “You’re going to make me come.”

She’s pleading, too: “Please, don’t stop.” We’re both edging closer, reaching our limits and approaching our desires.

“Then come for me." I’m pleading. I tried saying it like a command, but we both knew who was the conductor. It was a cry for help, a desperation play.

But sometimes Hail Mary's payoff. My frailty - by her doing - is intoxicating. She moans, deep and soulful. It’s gruff, almost primal. With her satisfaction and a potential finish line in sight, I find a small sliver of second life. I give her all I can with resolve and determination.

“Please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” I find a few more seconds within me.

Those seconds pass. My time is up. “Come for me." I'm truly begging.

“Say my fucking name,” she growls.

“E, come for me. Now.”

She slams back, commandingly. I grab what I can. I push deep, hopeful, and optimistic, and maybe at just the right angle.

Her yelp creates my explosion. My explosion throws her hips buck wild. I hold on the best I can, keeping all of me inside her. My head spins. Where am I right now? What day is it? Her skin goes flush to a color I only see after a job well done. Her spasms amplify my really, really sensitive head. Shockwaves ripple through our bodies.

She collapses. I tumble right after her. Time passes but we're never sure for how long. I can feel my heart in my ear. It's Tuesday night, I remember. We adjust to cuddle and keep warm. There's not enough energy yet to move under the covers.

Her head floats on my chest, in sync with my breath. With my right hand I trace the goosebumps on her sweaty thigh. With her left hand she combs through the soft wisps of hair on my chest. With my left hand I trace my fingers through her hair. Why dind't I grab this when I had the chance? I promised to try it next time.

Time passes and the heavy pants drown down into the silence of our steady breaths. A while later, giggles bubble to the surface.

“Thank you.”

“Likewise.”