The drive from Sacramento to Los Angeles is bleak. Along the I-5 or Highway 99, with little in between for miles and miles and miles. Carter and I have been together for six months and can barely keep our hands off each other. Talk, dark, handsome, and wearing expensive cologne - he is the single most erotic and sensual lover I have ever had, and hours in a confined space with only an arm's length between us is quite the pressure cooker.
We decide we'll stop halfway along the drive and spend the night someplace. The options are limited, of course, but we find the idea of stopping in Fresno at what used to be a Danish-themed roadside attraction famous for pea soup, and is now a Danish-themed Holiday Inn famous for, well... nothing, amusing and a great opportunity to do something with all the tension we've built in fleeting touches and neck kisses in the car.
Upon booking our stay, we discovered that the Holiday Inn offers a "lovers' suite" and a "romance package," and simply had to indulge. One thing I love about Carter, he'll let the absurdity of getting sexy in such an unsexy setting make him laugh and yet, make him no less horny.
We arrive to rose petals laid in a path from the door to the bed, past the windows' fabulous view of the parking lot. On the bed, two towel swans kissing surrounded by battery-powered candles, and a jetted tub in the bathroom.
After a glass or two of the finest Barefoot White Zin the neighboring pub had to offer, we come back to the room and fill the tub. Carter and I strip down and slip in, facing one another.
"I love you," I tell him, "I love being alone with you." It's particularly delicious to be somewhere unknown to either of us.
"So do I," he agrees, slowly moving my hair aside and placing wet, nibbling kisses along my neck.
I reach under the water to feel him. He is already hard, and I stroke him gently and look into his dark blue eyes. He stares at me hungrily, lustful and loving.
We kiss, warm and wet, his tongue against mine. I love the way he tastes. His fingers graze my pussy, parting me open and finding my clit. He touches me, and my whole body collapses against him desperately. He holds the nape of my neck, pulling my head back by my hair and looking deeply into my eyes. I continue to stroke him as he plunges his fingers inside of me every so often, making me squirm and whimper against him.
"You're so wet," he tells me, and he's right, even under the water.
"Well... yeah," I say, gesturing to the tub. We laugh, kissing deeply. He holds me closer and continues to work his fingers in me until I can't take it anymore. I put a hand against his chest and push him back. I need him inside me so intensely. To be fucked by him gives me a sensation of wholeness I have never felt before. I crave him in ways I can't describe. I need him so entirely in that moment. I mount him and put him inside of me. Immediately, a shiver runs through me. I begin to ride him with passion and intensity. I love to see him underneath me, watching my body and guiding my hips. The water splashes between us, and I can feel myself gushing over his cock as I lift my legs and place my feet on the bottom of the bathtub, continuously lowering myself onto his lap, being filled by him over and over again. I moan relentlessly and continue until the heat of the moment and the room itself are too much.
"Should we go to the bed?" He says. I nod.
We hastily make our way to the bedroom. I sit on the edge of the bed as he parts my legs with his body. He kisses my mouth, my neck, my nipples. He pulls my knees in closer to him, and I lie flat on the bed. He aligns himself with me and slides into my pussy with no resistance. I moan loudly as he begins to fuck me.
"You feel amazing," I tell him.
"Yeah?"
"I love how you fuck me." He pounds me harder, deeper. I have no reservations when we fuck, I never monitor myself. I am completely expressive however I please. I moan, scream, he pulls me closer and presses our bodies to one another.
Then he is on my side, to my left, with my legs draped over him and his hand on my clit, rubbing in quick, deliberate circles. This always makes me cum.
"I love you," I tell him. I can feel myself getting closer.
"I love you, baby. You're my girl."
"I am yours. I love you so much. I just want you." I look into his eyes with love and lust and desire and desperation.
"I only want you, baby. You're mine." I am his. This sends me over the edge, and I convulse around him. My legs shake and my pussy contracts and gushes. I look into his eyes. This moment is so overpowering for me—a combination of the love I feel, the safety, the level of vulnerability. He calms for a moment. Letting me take it all in. A tear falls, and then a few.
"I love you so much," I whisper, as he wipes my tear.
"I love you more. I really want to be with you forever," he replies, kissing me softly.
"Me too, baby," and I mean it.
He starts to move in and out of me again, slowly at first and then more intensely. I turn around, essentially kneeling in front of him so he can enter me from behind. He does, and begins to move in and out of my pussy as I hold my own breasts. I look to my left and watch us in the large mirrored double doors of the closet. He looks so sexy as he pulls me into him, sitting up against him. I see him watch my ass, run a hand down my back. In this position, especially after I'm slick from having just come, I can feel his entire cock. He puts a firm hand against my back and pushes me down onto the bed, with my ass up for him. Moments later, he cums all over my ass and back, and I lay down on the bed - spent and well-loved.
He comes back with a towel, wipes me off, and lies next to me.
"You're so sexy," he tells me, "I love you so much."
"I love you," I reply.
I put my head on his warm chest. We kiss.
