The Perfect Fit

It was suddenly so obvious: he was all I wanted. He was all I’d ever wanted since the first day we’d met. He was the perfect fit. Every other man since had been a replica of him, in some way – but never close enough for satisfaction. But right there, kneeling between my thighs, he was exactly what I wanted, when I wanted it. He was close to me, close enough for the sweetness of his musky body odour to engulf me, and my cunt throbbed with need.

He crawled further up the bed to plant a kiss on my lips, then my nose, then my forehead. I cupped his face with my hands to stop him from trailing kisses further down my body, pulling him close and kissing him deeply. Our mouths fitted together like they were always designed to find each other, tongues massaging, hands roaming…

I almost lost my mind. It was the perfect kiss. The perfect fit. Just perfect.

He didn’t need direction. I didn’t need to tell him where or how I liked it. He just knew. He knew to pull my tit out of that black bra and gently bite my nipple, and to slide his finger into my wet cunt before drawing circles around my clit. He knew when I was getting close to coming, too. To my utter dismay, he stopped and planted a kiss on my stomach.

Positioning himself between my thighs, he looked like he was going to devour me, in all the very best and worst ways. My heart flipped at the sight of his expression – menacing, lustful, and so fucking hot, all rolled into one. His dick was close to my cunt. I could feel the heat radiating from him. I was desperate for him to plunge inside me.

“Please,” I whined, nudging my body towards his.

“Patience is a virtue,” he growled back, sliding just his tip inside me before immediately pulling back out.

I jutted my hips forward, impaling myself on him. “Fuck patience!”

Hadn’t we had enough patience?!

We both cried out with carnal pleasure as he forced himself deep, almost as if he was trying to get our two bodies to merge into one. Once again, we were the perfect fit. And, once again, he needed zero guidance when it came to my body.

He didn’t pound in and out of my cunt; instead, he thrust and rolled, each cycle gliding across my clit and nudging me closer to orgasm. Slow, then fast, then slow again.

His expert fingers worked magic on my nipples, twiddling and tweaking and even occasionally pinching them hard. He smiled as they stood to attention, his eyes glowing with pride.

“Do you like this?”

It was all I could manage to groan in response. Every tweak and twiddle and pinch of my nipples sent electric shocks straight to my core. I lifted my arm to trail my fingers through his thick hair, manoeuvring him closer so I could fall into his kisses again. His tongue danced with mine to the same rhythm as his hips, and I wanted that moment to last forever. I didn’t care if he made me come, or if it ever happened again. Lost in his kiss, our bodies connected, feeling him deep inside me; it was more exquisite than even my fantasies had been.

“I’m close,” he breathed, the words bursting into my mouth.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and pleaded, “Hold on.”

By the way his breath grew jagged, and his brow furrowed hard, I knew he must’ve been right on the edge. He clamped his eyes shut, clearly focusing on delaying the inevitable. I almost wanted to delay it myself. Almost, but not quite.

One, two, three thrusts more and my pleasure erupted, my wet depths clamping around his dick as a guttural cry escaped from my throat. It triggered a carnal groan from him, too. He gripped my waist hard with both hands, and I could feel the first jets of his hot jizz bursting into me. For a split second, I almost felt disappointed not to have tasted him. Another time perhaps.

He collapsed on top of me, and neither of us moved for a while. Three minutes. Five, maybe. The weight of his body on mine felt too glorious to give up, even as his chest hair ticked my skin. It was another moment I wanted to saviour forever.

“That was the best sex of my life,” he mumbled, his face buried in the bed linen next to my face. I couldn’t help but smile at the statement.

“The very best?”

“The absolute fucking best.”

Mine, too.