Missionary

"You know what," Sam begins, "Let's not do anything fancy. We'll save that for later. Why don't you just get on your back and let me do the work?" What? Plain old missionary? How boring. But you did say he could choose, and it's not like tonight is for pleasure anyway. As long as he gets the job done.

With a barely repressed sigh, you roll onto your back, and Sam wastes no time in climbing on top of you. Below his appetizingly well-sculpted torso, his broad, latex-covered cock points at you almost threateningly. Dexterously, he lowers himself and thrusts forward into you without any help from his hands or yours. Now finally having a big cock scratching the itch you've been carrying around all day, you moan at the relief and the expectation of what is to come. Sam seems equally pleased. "Oh, fuck, babe." He mumbles something, but you're not paying attention anymore as Sam begins pounding away at you at an almost aggressive pace.

The two of you continue making out as you did before, needing no words. Sam's movements grow ever more intense, and you reciprocate as best you can. Then, he lifts his torso away from yours and grabs your sweat-covered thighs. Has he finally gotten bored of this position, then? Good. But is it really a good idea to let him have this much control of the situation?