Charlie groaned and bit down hard on his bottom lip. He felt like he was on fire – drugs and alcohol and his cock buried in heat and wet and warmth, thrusting hard and fast, digging his fingers into pleasantly fleshy hips. He felt the hard points of her nipples against his chest, and rubbed his palm over the curve of her breast. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” He wheezed. His hips moved on as if completely unconnected in any way with his mind. Or, maybe not.
In his mind, he wasn’t fucking the cute little brunette that he met at the bar two hours earlier. In his mind, he was fucking Geoffrey – Geoffrey was panting and moaning underneath him, and the whispery, feminine little breathy noises she was making simply didn’t exist. Geoffrey didn’t have lovely, soft breasts and a cute little tummy that jiggled just a little and longer fingernails that scratched into his back, and to be honest, those weren’t exactly things that Charlie disliked, but it made it harder to pretend that it was Geoffrey underneath him.
Luckily, his senses were already blurred, and so were hers, so she didn’t even notice that it wasn’t her name he grunted when he came, come coating the inside of the condom. He didn’t pull out right after, but reached down between them, fingers slipping and twisting in the smeared wetness there. He coaxed her into her own orgasm, and groaned at the teasing, muted feeling of her contracting around his lip cock. He did pull out then, and rolled away, fumbling with the sticky condom and dropping it into the rubbish bin by the bed. He lay on his back, breathing heavily, while she stood and went into the loo.
When she came out, twenty minutes later, she had a towel wrapped around her head and water droplets dripped from her naked body. She crawled on top of him on the bed, straddling his waist, and put her hands on either side of the bed, leaning down to kiss him. Her breasts swayed and bumping against his chest, and her lips were full and soft, their tongues sliding against each other. He ran his hands down her sides, and she giggled at the feeling. That sound – sweet and girlish – made him smile.
”I’ve got to get going,” She said, sounding a little regretful about it. The curls between her legs were tickling against his stomach, and he could feel how warm she was down there. He had the urge to taste it, but, yeah, she had to go, and that was probably best.
“All right.” He leaned up for one more kiss, and then watched her get dressed. She left her phone number on the dresser, but Charlie knew he wouldn’t be needing it. His body was thrumming with satisfaction, and all he wanted was to roll over and go to sleep. After a month of nothing but his right hand and Geoffrey’s voice, the feeling went beyond mere satisfaction – he felt like he was fucking floating. The high was wearing off in a calm, comforting sort of way , and sleep was definitely imminent. The only better option could possibly include calling Geoffrey first, but he ruled that out. It didn’t matter if Geoffrey had given him ‘permission’ – he still didn’t think it was right to call Geoffrey, just so the afterglow feeling could be complete. He would just call Geoffrey in the morning – which would be just before bedtime for Geoffrey, of course, and perhaps they’d have a go at phone sex. The thought made Charlie smile as he crawled under the covers, feeling sticky and knowing that the bed smelled like come and sweat, but not really caring.