I Need

I need to feel the tip of his cock jutting against my cervix. Normally I don't care; I'll take any depth as long as it's inside me. But I need deep.

I need to feel the bounce of his balls against the top of my pussy, each thrust as deep as it can go, his balls, even tight as they have become, still pressing briefly, almost teasingly, against my clitoris. They're drawing up, preparing to explode, but I need to feel them against my body.

I need to feel the base of his cock, so wide, spreading me open. It doesn't matter what position. On my back, on my knees, face, side, bouncing on him, held up by strong arms, pressed against the wall, rutting like wild animals or soft as new lovers, I don't care. As he bottoms out inside me, I need to feel that tension at the base of him, like neither of us is completely sure he could have pushed in any further, even if his cock were a mile long. I need to feel tight around him, like a glove, like a waistband after all-you-can-eat, like he's wearing my skin around him.

I need to hear the soft grunt, barely audible, that he makes without thinking each time he presses his hips into my pelvis. The exhalation of breath, not really a noise but an instinct, that he makes, that I can only hear when his lips are close to my ear, his body pressing against me. I need to feel the warm humidity of his breath on my skin.

I need to feel the last thrust, just before he explodes. It's hard to tell which thrust will be the last, but when it happens, I know. There's a thrust and then a grind, forcing himself as deep as he can, trying to burrow inside me, every muscle in him tensed.

I need to feel the spasm, feel the splash, as deep as it can be, the warmth filling me up magically. I need to feel each exquisite tension and release in him, each corresponding surge up from his balls, up his shaft, and out into me in a rush. I don't always feel it, but I need to feel it now.

And then I need to feel him grow soft inside me. I need to feel his lips on mine. I need to feel his gift inside, in my deepest spaces, no longer white-hot but still warm with the afterglow. I need to see him smile.