I let Melissa slump forward onto the bed, releasing my grip on her hair. Our breathing is erratic and heavy. Her whole body is still shaking from the intense orgasm that is rippling through her. Spunk oozes out of her pussy as I let her fall, my cock spent, my balls empty, my mind still reeling from her filthy words as she urged me to fuck her harder, deeper, without remorse. I owned her body like a possessed animal, and her submissive nature lapped it up.

I slump behind her. My flaccid cock leaks the last remnants of man cream onto her bottom, and my arm rolls over her body to cup her ample breast. I can’t resist the urge to squash her nipple and pull on it.

“Again,” she whispers. And yet I feel I haven’t the stamina to go at her again. If I were younger, I would. I try my best to push my cock back into her from behind, but it’s a half-hearted attempt at best. I resort to kissing her on the shoulder and squeezing her tits. She wriggles her bottom into my groin, gasping at the touch of sweaty skin and that one sound, the one whisper of air that leaves her mouth, finds my ardour responding. I don’t know how she has that effect on me, but she does.

I suffer a sudden outpouring of emotion, which is the result of pure lust for her body and how she reacts to my touch. I can’t help it, and she knows it. Kisses flourish over her skin like confetti on a windy day. Her matted hair is pulled to one side to reveal her neckline, and more kisses shower down on her. When she cranes her neck around to meet my lips, there is instant gratification, instant passion that fires our lust.

I push my cock forward, and it slips along her slit that is still leaking cum. I feel it stiffen. More kisses follow, and they are like kindling on an open fire, because that’s what kisses are like for me. They incite a degree of passion that is subdued otherwise; a degree of needy want flows through me. A desire to take this woman again, fuck her brains out for round two and leave her in a crumpled wreck on the bed, wishing she hadn’t started this in the first place.

And yet, we are just as bad as each other. She’s my mirror image, albeit with a far more beautiful body than I have. She knows she’s touched that part of my brain that wants to take her body again, because she feels my cock stiffen. I see the smile on her face that morphs to a wry grin as she pushes her ass towards my groin.

Her hands fly down between her legs with only one outcome on her mind – to arouse me further. This, she does with hardly any effort. Her two fingers on either side of my cock are all it takes. The slight touch of her nail raking along my shaft makes it twitch and stiffen, and I can feel it slip into her silky sheath once more, aided and abetted by her thumb, guiding it into her wet slit.

Her mind is like no other person when she’s in this state of constant arousal. A few orgasms are all it takes, and she finds herself on this roller coaster that is continually on a high and yet continuously swirling and twisting as it plummets to the ground below. On this journey, her use of English can only be described as unbelievable; she continually moans and groans with a few choice expletives thrown in for good measure, always at the stage where I’m waning, as if she knows that I have to make more effort and fuck her harder and faster. She always chooses the right words at the right time to make me quicken my attempt at bringing her off. She’s good at that.

She’s obsessed, not with orgasms per se, but with the chasing of them, to the extent that nothing else matters. One is normal and is generally experienced as I slide down the bed and start licking the cheeks of her bum from behind when she’s curled into a ball. She has this uncanny knack of waking up knowing she’s going to climax. One leg unfurls, and I suddenly find my head between them. My only course of action is to swivel around on the bed and slide my tongue along the full length of her slit. I hear her let out a satisfying moan when I touch her outer lips, and then she settles down with her back firmly on the bed and her knees almost touching the bed. Her ankles dig into the small of my back, and before I know it, my hands cup her ample bottom, and I’m dragging her pussy towards my mouth.

Her filthy words start as whispers, and then they grow louder. Much louder. Incorporating a language that identifies her specific pleasure and the feeling she’s getting from my oral actions. At one point, she will scold me for changing technique. When I hear, ‘don’t stop, just like that,’ I know she’s close and she wants me to keep doing the same action to let her fall off that cliff she’s been climbing for the last few minutes.

But, I’m evil, so I change technique, which is always accompanied by the phrase, ‘you bastard.’ She knows it’s character-building for her. Keeping her on edge is my obsession, if you can call it that. I want nothing more than for her to be constantly aroused. I want her to feel those pleasure waves roll over her body, up and down, tossing her around in the warm surf, bringing her close to shore and yet, at the last minute, sweeping her back out to sea before the winds of pleasure take her to heights that she can only imagine and release her.

I hear those words, ‘you bastard,’ a lot. But there’s nothing she can do about it. Each time she utters those words, she returns to the task of building herself up to the position she was in faster and faster than before and each time I have to be vigilant.

She changes her approach to her orgasm to try to fool me. Sometimes it's gasping and moaning with a slight rise of her bottom off the bed, or it may be the clenching of the bedclothes on either side of her, or the sudden attention to her nipples in an attempt to provide a secondary source of pleasure to push her over that edge, or the hand on the back of my head. She’s even tried fingering her ass without me finding out.

Let’s just say she cums when I let her cum. When my hands wrap around the tops of her thighs, when I pull myself up the bed to gain more purchase, when my tongue laps at her smooth, wet pussy from every direction possible and when I hold her tight to my body and flick the tip of my tongue over her clit until she screams out.

I’m constantly watching her writhe, twist and turn on the bed, and when I can see the intensity in her whole body, and when that desperate smile appears on her face, that is when I push her over the edge. That’s when her hands fly to the back of my head, and her whole body pulsates as if she’s taking fifty thousand volts of orgasmic energy.

When that happens, I know she’s in a particular state of mind, a sexual frenzy of sorts. I know that if she tells me to stop, I mustn’t. I know that one orgasm isn’t enough for her, that I must keep licking and pleasuring her slit until the second one follows close behind, and still with my arms clamping her to the bed and to myself, I continue pleasuring her. And, it’s a pleasure to do that.

I normally have to adjust my position when she thrashes on the bed for the second time, because my cock becomes uncomfortable. It’s not helped by my brain telling me to raise myself and fuck it into her. I want to take my pleasure so badly, but I don’t; I stay there between her thighs, licking her to a third orgasm. Her pussy becomes so wet and warm, and she leaks heavenly fluid that I keep lapping up and swallowing. Her third climax takes a little longer. It’s as if the previous two have sapped her strength, as if she fought against them and now she has no fight left in her. She has to climb that ladder again, from the start.

Some women can’t take the pleasure, but she can. One orgasm after another doesn’t seem to be a problem for her like it is for me. As much as I love doing her orally like this, my mind is urging me on, telling me to get up and push my cock into her body, thrust it in and out until I too, climax. My mind really wants to fuck her so badly.

It's as if the act of seeing and hearing her release her pleasure is triggering something in me. A primal need to fuck my cock into her sheath. It's overwhelming in some respects, and yet I've managed to suppress the feeling and keep going.

We both know she’s going to get it, eventually. And we both know that when I do finally push it inside her, she’s going to scream out loud. That’s when the verbal filth spreads throughout the bedroom. At times like that, we have received a letter from the neighbour telling us that they could hear everything. Unfortunately for her, our neighbour is also her boss, a really good friend and good-looking with it. So good-looking in fact that when we received that letter the first time, she replied to it, telling him that the door was unlocked and that I could do with a hand, needless to say, the next time was different.

I’d love to know how it feels for a woman having had three orgasms to be suddenly filled with hot cock, pumping in and out of a slippery and wet-as-fuck pussy until the man shoots the whole contents of his baby-making fluid into her.

I know how she behaves when this happens, but I’d love to know what it feels like.

I can tell that this morning is not normal. She seems animalistic in her approach to pleasure. Under normal situations, I would climb up the bed, thrust my hard and aching cock into her, allow her legs to curl around my body, pull her into me so that her head is far enough away from the headboard, and pump away until I spray her insides with spunk. I have been known to pull out and splash it all over her body and tits and then leave her there in post-orgasmic bliss while I head to the shower and work.

For some reason, I know that’s not going to happen. I see the needy look on her face as I raise my head from between her thighs. Her lips quivering, her smile stretching out a little too wide, and I can see those words forming on her lips. Her hands shaking despite them clutching at the sheets.

She nods at me. Words never form on her lips, but I know.

I crawl towards her, I put one leg over her thigh, push my knee into her still quivering pussy, and rub my thigh along its length. She pulls me in for a passionate kiss that lingers as long as it takes for my fingers to push inside, curl up and hook into place as she raises her bottom off the bed.

Her arm hooks around my neck, her lips crash against mine, and I feel her body jerk, as if it were receiving tiny electric shocks. The tips of my fingers rub her G-spot, pushing into it and sliding back from it, and elevating her to another level of arousal that she is desperate to find. I break the kiss and find her nipple instead. I suck it into my mouth and bite it, just as she bucks her hips and fucks my fingers as much as they were fucking her.

She gasps into my neck until I hear those filthy sounds coming from her mouth, ‘fuck me with them.’

The guttural sound that comes from her mouth puts a broad smile on my face. It is orgasm number four, and she doesn’t look like she has any intention of stopping. Neither do I. I love her when she gets into this trance-like state. This constant mode of pleasure reminds me of an out-of-body experience I once had.

I let her climax on my fingers, pulling them out as quickly as I can afterwards. My hands clasp around her hips, and I twist her body so that she is lying on her stomach. Pulling her hips backwards causes her ass to rise from the bed, which is quickly followed by her hands stretching out underneath her for balance.

I quickly positioned myself behind her, cock rearing upwards, hard as fuck and just as desperate to get inside her. I gather up her hair in a ball and pull until her neck arches backwards. I lean forward.

“You wanna get fucked hard?” I ask, knowing full well what her response will be.

She doesn’t answer; she just wiggles her bottom at me, desperate for the movement to catch the head of my cock and make its appearance at her entrance. If it had, she would have pushed back, taking it inside. Instead, I pull back a little, which does nothing for her neckline as it stretches further.

I look down between us. The sight is just something else. Something I cannot describe. It isn’t just the sight of her in this position; it's the fact that I know what is going through her head. I know what she is thinking and what she's hoping for. In that moment, I know she's as needy as I am. Her soul is on a knife-edge, waiting for penetration, and the longer it takes, the more excitement it creates. I know what that’s like, because I feel the same way.

I don’t know how I stop myself from just fucking her, but I do. I pull her head back just a little further. I can feel my cock-head brush her open lips.

“I asked – ” I said with a slow, barely audible tone, “if you wanted to get fucked hard?”

“Yesss,” came the strained reply, carried to my ears by a gasp of air.

With one hand, I push my cock downwards and aim. It goes straight in.

Wet wouldn’t be the word I would use to convey the ease with which she took my whole dick. The forward motion makes her splay her legs a little wider, but the force on her hair keeps her where I want her. I savour the feeling of her warm cunt. She moans out loud. That won’t last. Soon she will be all f’in and blinding.

When I am balls deep in her, I close my eyes. I tug at her hair to let her know she isn’t going anywhere. And yet, she dares to struggle and push her ass back at my groin. The little fucker can’t wait, can she?

And so it starts, slowly at first, nice long strokes, in and out. I can see she is desperate, trying her best to quicken the pace. I tug her head backwards.

“Stop it! You’ll get fucked at my pace,” I tell her. That doesn’t stop her from trying. It never does.

I quicken my thrusts, savouring the feel of her clutches all along the length of my cock, experiencing tiny little tugs as she clenches and unclenches. I had only one thought as I fuck her, and one that I know she would be having too.

Her hands reach out to the headboard, for safety more than anything. Her nipples and breasts brush against the sheets beneath her, and that’s when I fuck her hard. That’s when my cock goes forward with some force, pulling back on her hair at the same time. I keep it in her, timing it, pulling out and back in hard. Every time I go in, she lets out an audible gasp.

I start to speed up, and that’s when she begins to whimper into the headboard. All I can hear are the words, ‘fuck me, fuck me, fuck, me,’ coming from her body that is rocking to and fro in front of me. Then I hear a few phrases of ‘don’t stop,’ and then ‘I’m cumming.’

It is all I can do to stop her from shaking out of my grip. Her orgasm is powerful. Intense. Rapid. It shakes her whole body, and yet I manage to hold her steady and keep fucking her.

I ride her through her fifth orgasm for the morning, but I’m not anywhere near finished with her. Neither is she when she tells me to do it again.

That’s when you get into a state of mind that makes you forget your physical limitations. In that moment, she is getting fucked as hard and as fast as possible, for however long it takes. She is going to have orgasm after orgasm until she collapses on the bed in front of me, exhausted and unable to continue.

It doesn’t happen quite like that. I fuck her through one more climax, her body shakes like a rag doll, the pleasure from the end of my cock and pain from the screaming roots of her hair are the two main feelings I can imagine, until I shoot my load into her.

She knows it’s over when I shout. When I thrust forward and never pull back. When the thrusts become more frantic, I become more desperate to reach my peak. The whole sexual act borders on possession. I am going to take her, have my way with her body and fuck her into submission. A submission, I hasten to add, she loves.

That’s when I let her fall onto the bed. When I see my spunk ooze from her pussy, and when we start cuddling and kissing while locked in the spooning position.

Her giggles do nothing to assure me that we have reached the end. Slowly and surely, she encourages me back to hardness. Her fingernails scrape the side of my cock with a leisurely motion.

The alarm clock kicks into action, somehow, the lyrics of Queen’s ‘I want it all,’ blasting from the speaker, do little to convince me that it’s time for work. We would, under normal circumstances, slumber out of bed, use the shower, get dressed and head to work. But today isn’t normal. To be honest, I believe we’ve even ventured beyond abnormal circumstances. Both of us have entered the world of greed. We both feel the desire and intensity to keep going, to fuck some more, to have more orgasms, to spend the whole day in bed – fucking!

My hard cock spreads her pussy lips apart, corroborating this notion, until she prises her body away from me and stands up at the edge of the bed. Her hand rubs at her pussy, and her neck is covered in red blotches from the hot flushes of every orgasm she has already had.

She looks into my eyes and then at my stiffening dick that’s jerking insensibly against my stomach.

She’s torn, torn between leaving and showering or starting up again. The decision is made when I take hold of my cock and hold it upright. She crawls onto the bed and takes hold of it. Her auburn hair trails over my thighs as her lips wrap around the dome. Her head bobs up and down before she murmurs and starts to suck on the bulbous head.

Now it’s hard as fuck, and with her ass in the air, my only thought is at what point does the neighbour walk in, drop his trousers and fuck her from behind while she’s blowing my dick. That would have been a great sight because we both know what a sizeable cock he’s got.

Alas, I know the front door is closed, and I know he doesn’t have a key (not yet anyway), and I also know he’s probably on his way to a business meeting. The same business meeting that Melissa should be travelling to right now, except she’s fucked out of her mind and trying her best to swallow my cock whole.

Her mind is in the same place as mine. They both have this relentless urge to keep going, to progress from one sexual act to the next and the next until our bodies give out completely and collapse in a heap, only to be overcome by sleep. The same sleep that got us into this situation in the first place.

Melissa pulls her head off my cock for a breather, looks at the clock, and there’s a disgusting, “Fuck it,” that comes from her mouth, and yet she can’t just get up and head for the shower. She needs more just because the gift horse is looking her in the mouth.

A hand, my hand, reaches out to push her mouth back over the head of my cock.

“Suck it like a good little girl,” I say to her. “You’re going to be late anyway.”

And she does.

I still imagine the neighbour fucking into her from behind, and the imagination is much more lewd than it needs to be. For some reason, her ass is crying out for some action.

I start to move up the bed, inch by inch. Her mouth follows my dick as much as it can, and I’m happy when my back is against the headboard, my legs together, and her head bobbing its way up and down my shaft.

I grasp her cheeks in my hand and raise her face off my cock. She smiles. She knows what I want when I’m in this position. Our lips meet, crash together, and we start making out. My dick is hard as fuck again, and brushes the inside of her thighs as she slowly straddles me. We pause kissing, only for me to suck on her ample tits and pull her on top of me. Her hand shoots down between her thighs, and she grasps my cock. She knows where to put it. It’s where she always puts it when we’re in this position. There’s an urgency to her actions.

Here comes the surprise. I stop her. I shake my head.

She looks dumbfounded, as if she hasn’t understood. Then the penny drops. The wanton grin appears on her face, which makes her look so sexy. Her eyes close momentarily as she shuffles closer to me, placing her hands on the headboard behind me. She lifts herself upwards. I manhandle my cock, first along her pussy to gather some much-needed lubrication, and then the tip points directly at its goal. She sits down on it.

Now it's my turn to gasp and groan. She rocks her body but keeps descending on my stiffening cock. Her tits and nipples catch my attention on their way down, and I find myself sucking on them again. The wiggling of her ass as it's being filled feels glorious. I catch her glancing at the clock, but it’s too late now. She’s going to miss the start of her meeting. Her boss, the neighbour, is going to ask questions as to why she's late, and she’s going to have to either lie or tell the truth. If she tells the truth, he’s going to regret not being at home this morning.

The last time she was late for work, she told the truth, which is why we know he’s big in the trouser department. She’s the sort of person who will do anything to get out of trouble, and I love her for it. Guilt gets the better of her. She reaches for her mobile and, after a few keystrokes, I hear a phone ringing. She bottoms out on my cock, resting her cheeks on my thighs.

“John, I’m sorry, I’m running a little late.”

Not a bad excuse, and it’s true, so far.

“No, I didn’t oversleep; we just got off on the wrong track this morning.”

Again, true so far. Her body lifts, and then she sits back down, engulfing my cock for a second time. Her eyes close and then open. The intense stare into my eyes makes me think. I want to bite her nipple, make her cry out, but that would be unprofessional of me.

“Yes, I’d appreciate it if the meeting could be delayed until I get there.”

She gets up on her haunches and, with one hand, grasps the headboard to steady herself. She waits for me to buck my hips and fuck my cock into her, which I do, slowly at first.

She puts the phone to her chest as my cock enters her. There’s a small sharp intake of breath before she tells me that John would like to know when she will be at work. She obviously doesn’t have the answer, because her mind is in a sexual rut and she’s asking me to decide for her.

She knows as much as I do that this obsession affects everything, especially work-life balance, the ability to make rational decisions, and that important decision-making process to say STOP, is missing from her vocabulary. I stare into her eyes for what seems like ages.

“Tell him the truth,” I say.

She looks at me with a deadpan face, featureless and unemotional, realising what she must say, frightens her senseless. I grasp her hips with both hands and thrust into her, withdraw and thrust again.

“Tell-him-the-truth,” I emphasise every word with a thrust into her ass.

“It’s not like you haven’t told him the truth before. Is it?”

She makes to speak into the phone.

“John, you still there?”

Any reasonable audio detection machine would pick up the quiver in her voice from a mile away. I withdraw and thrust my cock back into her anus, causing her to stifle a moan. My hands are tight on her waist, and I can hardly wait to start pounding into her.

“Umm, as soon as Matt has finished fucking me up the ass. Shouldn’t be too long.” She spits it out, drops the phone on the bed and holds onto the headboard with both hands.

I don’t even know whether the phone call is still connected. I don’t care, and neither does Melissa. In fact, if I know her, she probably left it connected so that John could hear everything. She cries out. All sorts of expletives leave her filthy mouth as I start fucking her tight little hole. I don’t know whether that is because of the situation, because of what she just did, or who she told, but I love the way these tiny little nuances affect the way we have sex. They seem to turn the emotional tap on full.

Melissa shakes on top of me with her sixth orgasm of the morning, and yet she still manages to bounce up and down as much as she can. My actions from below make my dick harder with every thrust, and for some reason, my mind is convinced that I can go on forever simply because of what she has just told her boss.

Her arms slip from the headboard and wrap themselves around my neck. We kiss. She kneels on either side of me, and my dick thrusts into her hot and tight ass like a piston.

We both shout the same words at the same time, “Fuck! Yes.”

“Cum for me, you little fucker,” I say to her.

I keep fucking her hard, imagining her boss on the other end of the phone biting his lower lip and his eyes wide in astonishment. I imagine him in a room on his own, his hand snaking into his trousers to retrieve his dick. And I imagine him wanking over the sounds we’re making. Wishing he could hear through the wall, wishing he could just walk into our bedroom and join in.

And yet, I can’t believe she said those exact words to him. Right now, I think she’s the most wonderful person ever. The sexiest, horniest, most obsessed and most honest person in the whole wide world, and I can’t stop fucking her.

“I’m cumming again,” she says.

Of course she is, because my cock is still pounding into her tight ass. Pushing her from one orgasm to the next and the next. She’s clinging to me like her life depends on it. She’s under the impression that if she lets go of me, she will fall. I wouldn’t let that happen. Not to her. But I would push her beyond any limits she thinks she has. It’s almost a shame that we’ve never found any limits – yet!

Spunk shoots into her ass as my final thrust stops deep inside her. I hold her waist down so that I can feel the tightness and let everything seep out of my spent dick. This time, I know it’s finished.

We hold each other close. So close. The heat and sweat from our bodies soothe us. We kiss again. Soft, sensuous kisses this time. It’s as if we both know that the intensity of this tryst is over, and we need to calm down and become normal. My cock is still deep in her ass, still erect and still needy to carry on, but this must be the end of it now. Surely!

Minutes pass before I move. We stop the kissing, stop the holding, and start looking into each other’s eyes.

She smiles. I smile back. I brush a lock of hair over her right ear as she bites her lower lip, and then she rises off my cock.

“I’m fucked,” she says.

“Me too,” I add. “Go – go and get to work.”

I watch her waddle off to the shower. The radio switches off, indicating an hour has passed, and the time is now nine o’clock in the morning.

I shake my head, thinking we shouldn’t have done that, not today. We should leave these urges until the weekend. And we do fuck like rabbits on the weekend, and this still happens during the week. It’s our fault. Both of us. Not mine and not hers. We are the mirror images of each other. Brandishing the same goals but in different guises.

Without doubt, she is as obsessed with chasing orgasms as I am obsessed with giving them.

I’m now left wondering what will happen when she gets to work and John has a quiet word in her ear about her attitude to work. If it’s anything like the last time – she’s fucked. And if I know John, he’s going to want a piece of the cake I’ve just eaten, probably over his desk at work, and she’ll want more of the same when she gets home.