The Double Date That Didn't End, Ch 9 - Sex Stories

The Double Date That Didn't End, Ch 9

The Season of Sharing ******** RIA ******** Shane and Tracy moaned through the paper-thin walls of the cabin, their urgent thrusts building to a fever pitch in the other room: "I'm so close!" Tracy wailed. "Me too!" my husband roared. "Sheesh, listen to those two go at it!" Connor laughed. I reached down and grasped the iron bar of his cock, grinning inwardly at our reversal of fortune since last night, when Shane had been the one in my bed, and Connor with Tracy. Cooing happily, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pushed the tip of his penis back inside my body where it belonged. "Jesus, you're tight..." Connor whispered. “Jesus, you’re big,” I replied. We tried to keep our own thrusting as quiet as possible, to better hear the other couple. We heard every moan, every kiss, every desperate gasp of breath, and then-- Then we heard them say, "I love you." Connor and I both froze, paralyzed by the power of that word as if it had just tumbled from the mouth of Lord Voldemort himself. The funny thing is, it wasn't even the first time I'd heard Tracy and my husband say it to each other. After three years of close friendship, I'd heard those two say they “loved” each other on countless occasions. As friends. Like brother and sister. But NOT when they were in bed together. Shane wasn't supposed to say that word when--oh god--not when he was inside of her! The way Connor was inside of me. The day I married Shane, it had felt like a huge, uncertain piece of my future had finally ...

... clicked into place. For better or for worse, I thought my love life had been figured out: I would grow old with my husband, and that would be that. No more one night stands, no more boyfriends, no more surprises. But now? I felt untethered. My love life had just cut away the mooring ropes, and set sail without a map. I looked down at Connor's handsome face and saw the confusion his eyes, as well. Did I love Connor? Could I allow myself to love Connor? With the final barriers of physical intimacy now broken down between us, a flood of emotion poured out of me. I started crying. Can you believe it? I started crying, right there in Connor's arms. With his penis still filling my body. "Ria--" he whispered with concern. I shut him up with a long, slow kiss. "Make love to me, Connor." Without another word, he did. Tasting and touching, eons of eye-contact. Our first round of sex that night had been about the needs of our bodies. But round two was about something else entirely . It was about us: our shared adventures over the years, our unbreakable friendship, and all the feelings we’d never spoken out loud. "Love." Technically, it's just a word--but it's "just a word" in the same sense that the Sistine Chapel is just a room, the Mona Lisa just a painting, David just a statue. Connor’s powerful muscles flexed as his body thrust up into mine. He rolled us both over, spreading my limbs out in all directions as he ground his pelvis against my clit. Waves of pleasure overwhelmed my senses ...