As far as Josh was concerned, there was nothing to say that wasn’t already being said. Each stroke of his said ‘I want you, I need you’ over and over. And each welcoming curl of Emma’s hips responded in kind. The conversation went on for a long time. Sweat slicked their bodies, making them slip and slide decadently against each other. Emma’s fingers curled, digging into his back, his buttocks, his hips. Her belly quivered against his. Josh’s muscles trembled with strain as he held her tightly, breath mingling, mouths brushing. The pressure that had built up within him kept intensifying, crawling up his spine to the base of his brain, filling every cell, coiling low in his gut, tingling in his testicles. When Emma arched up hard against him, arms and legs tightening, mouth pressing into his shoulder to muffle her whimpered cry, Josh buried his face in her neck and drove into her. Her silken inner tissues fluttered around him, rippling and squeezing, stroking him like liquid fire. He withdrew a final time and then thrust deep as the pressure expanded, exploding through him like a supernova.
