Just fuck me. Christ, Amber knew exactly how to affect him, how to bring him to the very brink of his control. Most of the time Foreman gave in. It was so easy to let Amber take control, to let himself feel everything she wanted to do to him, to answer her every plea with more, and harder, and now. Even when they started slowly, on weekend mornings when they woke up in each other's arms, Amber would quickly overpower Foreman's lazy, indulgent instincts. And God knew he loved it. Loved every second, when he didn't have to worry about being gentle or ensuring that Amber was feeling as much, as strongly, as he was. She told him, with every movement and breath and moan, how turned on she was. How turned on he made her. It was so easy to be with her because she took control, and lose himself in his own pleasure.
"I will," he whispered. "Like this." Amber reluctantly followed his urging, spreading her legs for him as he rolled them both over. His dick slipped out, but with a slow, easy stroke, he slid back inside her. Resting his weight on his elbows, Foreman brushed Amber's hair from her forehead, pushing the damp tendrils away from her temples. He kissed her back, pouring himself into the kiss, into everything she wanted, and let her rub up against him. Amber wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers massaging at the back of his neck, and her kiss was desperate, urgent. When her body matched the pace of the kiss, writhing up, the bed gave another sharp squeak.
"Hey," Foreman said, carefully letting more of his weight rest on Amber, to slow her rocking and to push deeper inside of her. "Amber, look at me." He met her eyes and thrust again, deliberately, going as deep as he could and then pulling out nearly all the way. Amber's eyes closed briefly when she said she couldn't take it, and Foreman pushed in again, hard and strong and so slow. "You can. Just...relax. Relax." God, he hadn't asked her for this, not since he'd gotten used to following her lead, because it was always good and he didn't need to assert himself, but it felt amazing. The friction was all the more tantalizing because of how much he was holding back. His focus narrowed to each instant, each second. He started up an easy rhythm that peaked each time he met Amber fully, and ebbed with each withdrawal. "I want you," he murmured. "Mmn, want to...fuck you slow...feel you come." He wanted so much more than that, but like this, staring into her eyes with each stroke, he could only say that much. He wanted to watch her, wanted to be with her during every second of this. But he knew she wanted more. "Touch yourself," he said, chest heaving for another deep breath. "Come on, Amber honey, touch yourself for me." He dipped his head, kissing her, until his oxygen ran out and he felt light-headed on his own pleasure.
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"I will," he whispered. "Like this." Amber reluctantly followed his urging, spreading her legs for him as he rolled them both over. His dick slipped out, but with a slow, easy stroke, he slid back inside her. Resting his weight on his elbows, Foreman brushed Amber's hair from her forehead, pushing the damp tendrils away from her temples. He kissed her back, pouring himself into the kiss, into everything she wanted, and let her rub up against him. Amber wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers massaging at the back of his neck, and her kiss was desperate, urgent. When her body matched the pace of the kiss, writhing up, the bed gave another sharp squeak.
"Hey," Foreman said, carefully letting more of his weight rest on Amber, to slow her rocking and to push deeper inside of her. "Amber, look at me." He met her eyes and thrust again, deliberately, going as deep as he could and then pulling out nearly all the way. Amber's eyes closed briefly when she said she couldn't take it, and Foreman pushed in again, hard and strong and so slow. "You can. Just...relax. Relax." God, he hadn't asked her for this, not since he'd gotten used to following her lead, because it was always good and he didn't need to assert himself, but it felt amazing. The friction was all the more tantalizing because of how much he was holding back. His focus narrowed to each instant, each second. He started up an easy rhythm that peaked each time he met Amber fully, and ebbed with each withdrawal. "I want you," he murmured. "Mmn, want to...fuck you slow...feel you come." He wanted so much more than that, but like this, staring into her eyes with each stroke, he could only say that much. He wanted to watch her, wanted to be with her during every second of this. But he knew she wanted more. "Touch yourself," he said, chest heaving for another deep breath. "Come on, Amber honey, touch yourself for me." He dipped his head, kissing her, until his oxygen ran out and he felt light-headed on his own pleasure.