I sense you startle awake, but I'm slower to open my eyes.

"What the hell is that?" you whisper.

I listen to the eerie screams coming from the woods near my house. "Foxes," I say.

In the darkness of my bedroom, you turn to face me. "Jesus! Why are they carrying on like that?"

"It's their mating season." As I speak, I think about how late it's gotten. You should be leaving, but the bed is so warm, and you are even warmer. I can't resist snuggling up against you.

You drape an arm around me. "They sound like they're possessed."

"Are you scared?" I tease.

"Fucking terrified," you respond through low laughter.

For weeks now, you've been driving out to my place almost every night. Yet I'm still astonished to be forty-two years old and fucking a man ten years my junior. I've never been attracted to someone younger before, but your easygoing nature, along with your eagerness to please while having nothing to prove, made me want you from the start.

Plus, you are amazing in bed.

It's unsettling to think about my growing fondness for you, so I pivot from the realization. "You know," I say in a quiet voice, "foxes are mostly solitary creatures. They need a lot of alone time, like some people."

"Ouch!" Though it's too dark for me to see your features clearly, I know you're grinning. "Is that your not-so-subtle way of kicking me out of your bed?"

I know I should boot you out of my bed and right out the door. I've been firm since you and I started seeing each other: you don't spend the night.

But I now feel my resolve weakening.

"Not just yet." I slide my palm over your chest and then down your belly, inching lower. You let out a sigh when I circle my fingers around your flaccid cock. Not even the continual screams emerging from the woods can distract you now, for your sole focus is on my touch.

It doesn't take you long to respond, but then, I knew it wouldn't. Your breathing quickens as I stroke you, my hand moving beneath the covers. I love touching you like this. Simply feeling you harden in my grasp makes me wet.

Just when I think you might do nothing more than lie there and let me get you off with my hand, you reach for me. In seconds, your body is a weight upon mine. When our mouths meet, I offer myself to you entirely: my parted lips, my open thighs, my needy cunt.

You take hold of your cock, its tip poised at my entrance. We both moan as you slide deep inside me. I try to wrap my arms around you, but you're quick to pin my wrists against the bed. I have a tendency to scratch when excited, and while it's something you enjoy, your back is still raw from earlier in the evening.

I make a show of struggling in your grip, but you know I like to be restrained. My halfhearted attempts amount to nothing, for you are far too strong. The foxes have moved deeper into the woods, their calls fainter now. As you begin thrusting, I release wild cries. Soon, it's only my voice you can hear.

You bury your face in my neck. I feel your hot breath, then a hint of teeth. Your playful nip borders on painful. A shudder courses through me as your fucking grows more fervent. In my mind, your cock takes on a personality all its own. It's hard and unyielding, relentless in claiming my cunt until it meets the barrier of my cervix. Even then, it often feels like a battering ram, and the sensation is one of such raw bliss that it makes my eyes roll.

I rock my hips to match your rhythm. In the darkness, I can envision the look of intense concentration on your face. It's rare for you to come first, and you never do during our second time in a single night. I know you'll outlast me, pumping away between my thighs until my body succumbs to your demand.

I begin trembling, and you immediately sense it. By this point, you're panting from exertion and sheer arousal. While keeping up those deep, fluid thrusts, you circle your hips a little. The feel of your dick massaging my inner walls brings me right to the edge. My hands are half-numb from your hold on my wrists, but I'm beyond caring.

A scream tears from my throat as I come fiercely around your cock. You slow only long enough to bask in the pleasure of my muscles gripping you tight. Then you release my wrists and slip your arms beneath me. Your lips return to my neck, but your kiss is gentle this time. I rest my palms on your back, stroking the raised scratches I've left there.

Your thrusts grow shallow, a sign you're close. Above your groans, I beg, "Come inside me!"

Seconds later, you do. Your muscles tense, and your cry is strained; it's the sound of utter surrender. I wail as I climax again, the contractions seizing my entire body.

Finally, you rest against me. Outside, it's quiet. I hear nothing but our heavy breathing while your lips seek mine.

"Give me a minute to recover before you kick me out of bed," you say. The grin has returned to your voice.

Instead of strengthening, my resolve bends until it snaps. I tell myself it's freezing outside, and it's too late to send you home. What if you grow drowsy during the drive back to your place?

I tell myself a lot of things, but to you, I say only one word: "Stay."