Final Exam(4)

By: Natalie Deschain

Some silent agreement formed between them. She sauntered to the shallow part of the pool and leaned over the edge, lifting he ass into the air, shivering from the cold water covering her body and plating her hair to her back. He came up behind her, rising from the water like some prehistoric monster from the sea, his manhood jutting before him. She leaned on her elbows and looked over her shoulder as he lovingly took hold of her ass, running his hands over the smooth skin, and squared himself up. Birds chirped in the early morning haze, and the breeze picked up, chilling her. It was at that moment that he entered her.

She moaned and her head bobbed down as he slid inside, more gently this time, letting her feel it, inch by inch. Standing behind her, he was able to lean in a little, until he was buried to the root, his member sliding in her insides as he repositioned himself for better footing, drew back, and gave her an exploratory thrust. His hips against her ass made a wet sound, and the water sloshed around his legs. She groaned and bit her lip, willing him to go faster, but he moved at his own pace, throbbing inside her. His hand slithered up his back, cool from the water, and she gasped. He slowed even further, until he was barely moving.

“Where is it?” he said in a low, husky voice.

“In the basement” she grunted.

He drew back and slapped her ass. She tightened reflexively around him, sitting up a little.

“That’s a lie.”

“It is!”

In and out, in and out, slowly. It was torturous. “Faster,” she demanded.

He had to give in. She could feel him shaking.

He pushed inside her to the root, and hooked his arms through her elbows, lifting her up, forcing her back into an almost painful arch. The cool breeze made her nipples tiny points of hard need.

“Where,” he said, sliding slowly in her, “is it.”

“In the dining room,” she gasped, “under the mail.”

He pulled out of her. She grunted. “Wait,”

“You’ve been a good girl,” he said, leaning over her. “Time for your reward.”

He grabbed her, turned her around, and lifted her up, throwing her into the pool. For a moment of sheer terror, she was afraid she might slip under the surface and drown. All the strength had gone out of her. Josh took her arm and held her up, pulling a raft to him. He lifted her up and dropped her on it, face down, and then climbed on it himself. Their weight made it sink, until they were nearly underwater. He threw his arms around her and the raft both, and she instinctively guided him in with her hand as he took her from behind. They rolled into the water as he fucked her, her head nearly dipping beneath the surface with every thrust. She put her legs together to squeeze him more tightly, the sensation doubling, tripling. She nearly bit the rubber raft. He threw his legs out to keep them from sinking and to pin her down as he rolled his entire body in one fluid motion, driving hard into her.

She felt her excitement build up again, but this time it was flatter, broader. All the strength went out of her, and he had to hold her up to keep her from sinking. She gave into it, her eyes lidded, her mouth falling open and every breath roughly working its way out of her as a half-grunt, half moan. He kissed the back of her neck, squeezed her, and despite the cold and the exposure, she felt strangely safe, protected by his strength. She was melting, fading into him, and when she felt the pressure building in his loins again, it was as if he was drawing her into his essence, their bodies melding together. She made a small, pained sound as the first wave came, involuntarily clenching around him. He grunted, willing himself to hold on, to keep going and drive her deeper into frenzy. Her legs quivered, splashing into the water.

Release came. It surged through her, making her spasm. It all happened at once. He pulled her off the raft and rolled with her, lifting her with his hips into the air, the cool breeze ripping the scream out of her as she came. He landed on his feet, holding her up, supporting her as he fucked hard from behind, lancing into her, his thrusts becoming more forceful again. He exploded inside her, a point of white heat against the terrible chill in the air and the water, and she went limp as the pleasure took her, driving the strength out of her limbs. When it was over, he was leaning back, treading water, holding her up.

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