Post-fuck. He’d already eaten and refilled his wine glass. Now he wanted to play me some music – his music. Mine wasn’t good enough. And then he wanted to show me some YouTube videos. Alrighty then.

We lay there, his arm around me, my head snuggled into his shoulder, peering at the screen. It was a 5 minute thing about ducks – there was a whole series of these by the same voiceover artist which were mildly amusing. At points during the video he would kiss my head and hug me closer. It was ridiculously intimate, and I loved it. I know, I’m crazy. As was the ducks corkscrew penis. 

He asked me how to switch off the lamp, and set his phone alarm. We lay there for a bit, music still playing and he wriggled. I might have drifted off for a second but woke up again when he shifted position. The feel of a body next to mine in the bed was arousing me. No-one had stayed the night for months. 

Very soon after, our lips and limbs entangled again. This time it was urgent, hot and lasted a lot longer. We split two condoms. We were both drenched in sweat, his hair stuck to my lips, mine to his. We seemed to fit together so well, me on top again, him holding my hips, or ass. Slapping it. Me pushing on his chest, or leaning back resting on his legs. I came as he held and licked my breasts and we found the rhythm that worked. We continued until I was sore, until it hurt to even move on top of him. 

“Doggy” he said and I slid off him, glad of the change in position. He drove into me from behind and again spanked me with his hand on each ass cheek in turn. He grabbed at my tits, held them as he thrust. 

We switched again and he urged me again  to “Show me the pussy”. How I didn’t burst out laughing I don’t know.

He came with a roar and I climbed off. I was soaked. He was soaked. The bed was wet. We fell asleep in each other’s arms.