Miles Spoke to Maya

The door closes behind them and she turns to face him with that expression he has seen exactly twice before — once on a Sunday afternoon on a couch with a dryer humming down the hall, and once in a third floor restroom at prom. The expression that has stopped pretending entirely.

She kisses him first. It is not tentative. It has none of the careful buildup of the previous times, no slow escalation, just the full weight of everything that has been sitting between them since that Sunday landing all at once.

They undress each other between kisses, unhurried despite the urgency, her hands finding his shirt buttons while his find the zip at the back of her green dress. It falls to the floor. His shirt follows. She steps back and looks at him for a moment, her dark eyes moving over him with open appreciation.

Then she holds up a finger.

Maya: one second.

She disappears for a moment and comes back with a bottle of chocolate syrup, holding it up with a small satisfied smile.

Miles: what are you doing.

She pushes him gently back onto the bed.

Maya: lie down.

He obliges. She straddles his waist, uncaps the syrup, and leans forward. She writes slowly and deliberately on his chest, a single letter.

M.

She caps the bottle and sets it aside. Then she leans down and runs her tongue along the chocolate in one slow deliberate stroke, her eyes on his face the entire time.

Miles: He exhales. okay.

Maya: She looks up from his chest with bright eyes. I've been wanting to do that all night.

She works her way back up his chest and kisses him again, deep and unhurried, before he rolls her over and works his way down her body.

He takes his time. He has learned by now exactly what she responds to and he uses every bit of that knowledge, his mouth moving over her stomach, her inner thighs, everywhere except where she wants him most until she is pulling his hair with intent.

Maya: Miles.

Miles: yeah?

Maya: stop teasing.

He puts his mouth on her.

She comes apart immediately, her back arching off the bed, one hand gripping his hair and the other twisted in the sheets. He works her through it without letting up, drawing it out until she is shaking and breathless and pulling him up by the shoulders.

Maya :mmmm...fuckk...that was so good....

Maya: Get up here.

He moves up her body and pushes inside her slowly. She exhales at the feeling, her hands finding his back, pulling him closer.

He starts gently. Long slow strokes, his weight on his forearms above her, her legs wrapping around him naturally. She looks up at him with those dark eyes and something passes between them that neither of them tries to name.

Then she digs her nails into his back.

Maya: harder.

He obliges. The pace builds gradually, each stroke harder than the last, the headboard beginning to find the wall in a steady rhythm. He juggles between kissing her lips, her neck, her tits. Miles continues to thrust into her hard and deep. Her head presses back into the pillow, then further, until the top of her head is against the headboard itself, her neck at an angle that should probably be uncomfortable.

She does not seem to notice or care.

Maya: don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.

The headboard shakes against the wall. The party below is a distant irrelevance. She screams in pleasures as she comes with her legs locked around him and her nails raking down his back, loud and completely unrestrained.

He pulls back and lies down beside her.

She sits up, pushes him gently onto his back, and takes him in her mouth without any preamble. One hand at the base, working in rhythm, her dark hair falling forward around her face. She is focused and thorough, looking up at him occasionally with those bright eyes.

She gives him another minute before she crawls up his body and straddles him, reaching down to position him at her entrance. She sinks down slowly, her head dropping back at the feeling.

Maya positions his cock at the entrance of her pussy and pushes herself down taking him in inch at a time. She starts riding him fast and hard. No warmup, no gradual build, just immediate and relentless, her hands flat on his chest, her hips moving with a rhythm that makes thinking optional. He grips her thighs and she does not bat his hands away this time, leaning into the contact.

She comes again, shuddering, and slows but does not stop.

He sits up.

She adjusts instinctively, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, continuing to move in his lap. Face to face now, close enough that her forehead drops to his, both of them breathing hard, moving together in the lotus position with a slow grinding rhythm that is somehow more intimate than everything that preceded it.

Maya: Your cock is so think, I can't get enough fuckkk..

Miles: keep going baby.

She continues riding him as her tits slap his face. She pulls back and looks at him. Something moves behind her expression that she does not put into words. Then she kisses him once and lies back down.

Maya: Get on top of me one more time.

She pulls him down over her, onto her back, her legs spreading wide.

Maya: Fuck me hard until I come again

He pushes inside her and does not hold back. The headboard resumes its conversation with the wall, harder and faster than before, Maya beneath him completely abandoned, her legs wide, her hands gripping his shoulders.

Maya: yes. Yes. Right there. Don't you dare stop.

Maya cums again. Harder than before. She doesn't care to keep her voice down and screams loudly in pleasure.

He does not stop.

Miles: I am gonna cummm...

Maya: Give it to me, I want your hot cum on my face.

Miles is more than happy to paint Maya's face as he jerks off in her face and unloading his cum all over her face.

She runs her finger over her face cleaning every bit of cum off of her face and licking it off her finger, swallowing it all while maintaining steady eye contact.

Maya looks up at the ceiling. Then at him. Then she laughs, genuine and unguarded, the way she did on that Sunday afternoon.

Maya: We really need to stop meeting like this.

Miles: Do we?

She holds his gaze for a moment.

Maya: absolutely not.

They lie there both exhausted.