Big Girls Do It Wetter Read Online Free PDF

circling and lifting and squeezing, as if he could never get enough of touching them.
    All the while, his slow, inexorable thrusting into me continued, his breathing unchanging, his eyes locked on mine when we weren't kissing. And, just because it was Jeff, he was silent.
    Then, when the fluttering of climax began in my belly and I moaned in his ear, wrapped my legs around his waist, he allowed himself one barely audible "mmmmm" in my ear, and then another when I dug my nails into his back.
    He slowed, then. Just when my climax began, and his neared, he slowed, dragged it out. He wrapped his other arm under my head with the first, and now his thrusts were merely at the surface, barely entering, shallow dips, quick plunges and back out. I whined high in my throat, protesting the change. He only kissed me, and then plunged deep, once, drawing a gasp from me. Back to flutters, then, kissing me at each thrust, touch of the lips and thrust, again and again, his tongue darting between my lips each time.
    The deepest stroke yet, then, burying himself inside me, his voice buzzing "mmmmmm" in my ear, his breath on my cheek. Again, and deeper. Oh lord, another plunge, deeper, and so slow. A rhythm, then, back to the exquisitely slow strokes, deeper than ever, hips grinding at each apex.
    The only sound was our breathing, an occasional whimper, a soft "mmmmmm" from Jeff; sunlight streaks across our bodies, bright and hot.
    The climax rose, brought from a small flutter to a sudden hot impending pressure, a kind of crushing need in my belly, deep inside me. This was like nothing I'd ever experienced. He took his time, pulsing into me, building up to the peak in steady blocks of pleasure, backing away from the edge each time, but not enough to allow us to slip back down and lose the burning need for release.
    I couldn't have said how long he'd been above me, tireless and supporting his weight so no part of him rested on me. Minutes? Days? I didn't know, and didn't care. The unhurried pace was delicious, each stroke filling me completely, each thrust delivering wondrous pleasure throughout me.
    I knew, when climax came, it would be blinding in its intensity, would carry on for an eternity. I had no doubt he would bring me there, in his own time, and I was perfectly content to let him take me there in his own time.
    Slow strokes, deep and gentle, were replaced by longer, harder thrusts, after a time. I wrapped my legs around his ass again, pulled him against me at each thrust.
    He wrapped an arm around my leg, and then the other, and he was supporting his weight on my legs, kneeling above me, driving so deep, deeper than I'd ever been taken, so perfectly, incredibly deep, I thought perhaps he might lose himself inside me, and it struck me that perhaps this was exactly his desire, to bury himself within me and never leave.
    In that moment, I wouldn't have argued.
    The climax erupted, then, with my legs near his chest, held by his arms. It wasn't a sudden detonation, it was an inevitable overwhelming flood tide, washing through me not in waves but in a gradual up-surging. Our pace increased, but imperceptibly, until he was driving into me with relentless speed, but still gentle, never pounding.
    "God, yes," I whispered, my first words since we began. "More."
    He released my legs and curled over me, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, clung to him, held tight to him as he found his release, and now I came with him. It wasn't hard, or explosive, or shattering. It was an intense falling into perfection, a coming home.
    When he lay next to me once more, I pillowed my head on his chest, felt his arms wrap around me, and fell into the deepest, most restful slumber of my life.
    * * *
    It was late evening when I woke up, facing away from Jeff, with his arm around my belly. His erection was a hard lump between my ass cheeks, and I knew by his breathing he was awake.
    I'd never before woken up aroused, but in that moment I felt a rush of dampness