Yes, that is someone nibbling on my neck.
Not just someone… that’s Matt nibbling on my neck.
As I start to wake fully up, other sensations assault me. Matt is pressed up against my back, my head resting on his arm, while the other is wrapped around my waist. His cock is pressed into my backside, and his lips are making a goose-bump trail along the skin of my neck.
I stretch my body and then, for good measure, push my butt into Matt Jr., who is insistently knocking on my back door. Matt Sr. groans in response, and the arm that was wrapped around my waist travels south, his fingers working their way between my legs.
Yup… that’s on my list of best way ever to wake up!
“I can’t believe you let me sleep last night,” Matt chides as he sinks a finger into me. “You’re a bad girl.”
No words come out, just a breathy moan that causes Matt to chuckle, and he adds another finger. I feel compelled to converse with him… You know, show him that I can multitask while he wakes my body up.
“You looked so cute and vulnerable last night, I just couldn’t do it,” I tell him. Truth of the matter is, I crawled into bed next to him, pulled the covers over both of us, and watched him sleep. If he knew I had done that, I’m sure he would have labeled me a psycho, so I keep that knowledge to myself.
“Vulnerable?” Matt growls in my ear as he pushes his fingers into me extra deep. “Never call me that again. I’m the great and powerful Connover. Vulnerable has no business being anywhere in the vicinity of me.”
Giggling, I reach my hand behind me and grab ahold of what has become my most prized possession.
Yes… mine!
I stroke him in time with the beat of his fingers, and we lay silently with nothing but moans and grunts echoing through my bedroom. After only a few minutes, Matt’s voice is raspy and harsh when he says, “Playtime’s over.”
He pushes me onto my stomach, rolling over on top of me. Supporting his weight on his hands, he manages to kick my legs apart. I can feel him make a quick dip with his hips, and he’s at my entrance. He’s not seeking permission to come in either. He takes it upon himself with a few rough pushes and then he’s all the way in, and God… it feels so fucking good.
Feels better and better every time.
To give himself better leverage, Matt grabs my hips and raises them off the bed, pulling out and slamming back into me. I let out a very unladylike ooph into the pillow, and then I just hang on for the ride.
And it’s Matt-Fucking-Connover tunneling deep into me, so it’s the ride of a lifetime. He alternates fast, then slow, hard, and then tender, hands gripping my hips or sneaking around to my front to rub me just right.
Long before he reaches the pinnacle, I’m already shaking, shuddering, and crying out words of praise for his performance. He soon follows me, again whispering my name in reverence as he comes.
Once we get our sea legs under us, we venture into the shower… where Round Two of the Mac and Matt Show takes place. We’re not as graceful, and Matt even slips on the soapy tile once as he tries to pin me to the shower wall. He throws a hand out to make a grab at something—anything—to stop us falling and manages to grab onto my shampoo rack hanging around the showerhead. It slips off the metal pipe, catching the showerhead with such force that it rips away. It falls and hits Matt on the shoulder, for which he drops seven “F” bombs, and water starts pouring out of the bare pipe at an alarming rate.
Pride doesn’t even do it justice when I think that Matt never even misses a beat. His feet gain purchase and he balances out, never missing a stroke inside of me. He pounds me into the tile wall until both of us are groaning in orgasm.