It Won't Happen Again

She wanted to do this for him, knowing very well how much not being able to get it up had factored into his anxiety. This was her, willingly giving him treatment. She pushed her ass out then shoved it back, hard. He gasped, his thigh muscles under her contracting and pushing her up. She reared back and did it again. Whatever he’d been trying to say died on his tongue. His lips parted with each heavy breath, his brows pinched tight as he stared down at the place where they were joined. He suddenly pushed himself up, leaning on one taunt arm, hand pressed flat on the mattress of the bed. The other arm around her waist, he moved under her, rocking against her. He looked like he was in pain, distressed, exerted. He took control, moving forward to meet her as he pulled her with that arm around her waist to crush against him with each deep stroke. As close as she was to her third flight, it still didn’t seem to be enough for him.  He pushed his pelvis up, pushing them bot