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“Oh... si, si, si!” she cried, her hips starting to move up and down on the bed a little.

She came less than a minute later, the orgasm exploding throughout her, seemingly catching her by surprise. She yelled out some guttural Spanish profanity to the ceiling while pulling his head more forcibly against her mound. Her legs tightened up around his neck, making it difficult for him to breathe. Her pelvis was now rising and falling spastically, involuntarily. Sweat formed all over her body and goose flesh rose up.

Jake held on for dear life, his free arm—the one that was not plunging fingers in and out of her—wrapped around her pelvis to try to keep her from actually bouncing off the bed and dislodging him. Her juices gushed into his mouth. Her membranes clutched at his fingers with an exciting strength.

Finally, the orgasm faded out. Her legs released their grip on his and fell back open. He raised his head out of her junction and looked up the length of her naked body, seeing damp skin that was flushed red, seeing nipples that looked hard enough to cut glass, seeing a mad look of lust in his lover’s eyes.

She put her hands in his armpits and pulled on him. “Now, Jake!” she demanded. “Put your cock in me now! It’s time!”

“Yeah,” he agreed, allowing himself to be pulled forward. “It’s time.”

He slid up the length of her body, enjoying the feel of his naked flesh against hers. When they were pressed chest to chest, face to face, her mouth attacked his, licking at his lips, sucking at them, and then plunging her tongue back into his mouth to taste him some more. Her legs opened wider, her hands dropping to the back of his buttocks, where she began to squeeze and knead the cheeks.

“Do it, Jake!” she barked between kisses and sucks. “Put it in me! Fuck me!”

He adjusted himself a little, putting his weight on his elbows while his hands went to her breasts. The head of his manhood slid along her inner thigh and then onto a wet, dripping heat as it touched her swollen lips. The rest was purely instinctual. He adjusted his hips a little, shifted his weight, and then his little head—which had done entirely too much of his thinking over the years—found itself seated and in position. All that needed to be done now was to drive it home.

He did not even hesitate. He pushed his hips forward and sank into her body, feeling those strong muscles gripping every square millimeter of his most sensitive part, caressing it, loving it. The sensation, coupled with the fact that this was Celia he had just driven himself into—and it was not a dream or a fantasy, but reality—sent a surge of pleasure radiating throughout his entire body, his entire soul.

Madres de Dios!” Celia cried as he pushed in to the hilt. “We’re doing it, Jake! We’re really doing it!”

“We’re really doing it,” he panted in agreement. He then began to thrust himself in and out of her.

He didn’t last long, but then he didn’t need to. Celia was just as hot as he was, particularly after the first orgasm he’d just given her, and within three minutes she was bucking back at him, once again shouting out shocking Spanish obscenities, her hands pulling on his ass, urging him to go deeper, urging him to go faster. Her second orgasm was even more powerful than the first, and barely had it finished up when Jake’s usually ironclad control over his own orgasm overloaded and burned to a crisp.

“Yes!” Celia cried, feeling the increased force of his thrusts, feeling the loss of control in his rhythm. “Do it, Jake! Come in me! Come in me!”

He came in her, exploding with a burst of sheer pleasure more powerful than any he could remember in recent memory. He shot an incredible amount of pent-up semen into her body, so much that it overflowed and ran out of her, making a large wet spot on the bed.

Madres de Dios, it’s hot!” Celia moaned as she felt his gift. “So fucking hot!”

The spasms seemed to go on forever, the pinnacle of pleasure to hold at the plateau for an eternity. But, at last, it started to fade. His thrusts slowed to a gradual stop and he collapsed atop her, a sweaty, flushed, panting mess.

They kissed tenderly, though still with considerable passion as the sweat evaporated from their skin. Their tongues danced together while their hands stroked up and down, back and forth.

At last, they broke apart. Jake pulled his now-wilted member from her body and rolled off of her, so they were laying together, their sides in contact, both looking up at the ceiling. They said nothing for a while, did nothing, did not even think. They just basked in the afterglow of their forbidden love.

The time to deal with the consequences would come later.

They made love two more times that night before falling into an exhausted sleep in each other’s arms. They did not talk about what they had done, about the future, about anything at all really. At around 1:30 in the morning, Jake woke up in the darkness, shivering in the cold despite the fact that Celia’s warm body was still cuddled into his chest.

The covers for the bed were on the floor, kicked there shortly after their second round and not yet recovered. He extricated himself quietly from her embrace and then padded to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he came back, he picked up the covers from the floor and draped them over Celia’s naked body. He thought about retreating back to the sitting room, where his fold out bed awaited him, but, in the end, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He climbed back into bed with her and they cuddled up once again.

Around 4:30, they woke up and did it again, this time with Jake taking her from behind.

After this round, they fell back to sleep.

The next time they awoke, it was 7:30 in the morning and the room was considerably brighter.

Now it was time to face what they had done.

“I wasn’t drunk,” Celia told him. She was still naked, still next to him in the bed. She had gotten up to go to the bathroom and had crawled right back into bed with him, as if she had every right in the world to be there. Her hand was idly caressing Jake’s shoulder, her breasts covered with the comforter. “I was buzzed a little—those rum and cokes and the wine, you know—but I was not drunk. I cannot and I will not blame what happened on being drunk.”

Jake nodded slowly. Under the covers, his hand was resting on her knee. It was not a sexual touch—not really anyway—it just felt right to put it there. “I wasn’t either,” he said. “I mean ... I wasn’t completely sober, but I was not drunk enough to blame our actions on that either.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement with that,” Celia said. She looked over at him. “I also do not regret what we did.”

“No?” he asked, unsure how to respond otherwise.

“No,” she said. “That was the most amazing lovemaking I have ever had the privilege of being a part of.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, proud of himself.

“Yes,” she said forcefully. “Not only was the sex good, but there was an emotional aspect to it that made it even better. I love you, Jake. That was part of what brought last night on, remember?”

“I remember,” he said.

“And because I love you, because you love me, because we were doing something that both of us have wanted to do for years ... it made it that much more incredible, that much more real. Am I making sense?”

“You are making sense,” he agreed.

“Did you feel it too?” she asked. “Was it as incredible for you as it was for me?”

He smiled and touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “Even more so, I suspect,” he admitted. “No matter what happens after today, I am going to cherish the memory of last night forever.”