Free Impulses by V.L. Brock

envisioned for far too long.
    He frees my breast from the cup of my bra, and brushes his thumb pad against my erect nipple. Sparks generate from the peak and shoot down to my clit causing my muscles to tighten lusciously and I call out incoherently. His hand soon descends to my hip bone. Fingertips dig into me in urgency and the sensation is both pained yet heartily thrilling. His drives become more vigorous and his tempo escalates.
    I wrap my arms around him, my hands placed firmly on his shoulder blades before they slide down to explore every strained, working muscle and sinew in his back as he forces into me like a mad man. I embed my nails into his flesh, silently pleading and clutching at him for some inscrutable reason.
    I bound my legs high around his waist and I feel his cock skim along my swelling, sensitive clit as he propels into me at some glorious angle, and its sensation overload, feeling every muscle amongst my body tense and squeeze as I near my release.
    “Don’t stop…don’t stop––” I desperately plead.
    Mr. Wentworth’s right arm still propped up on the arm of the couch, every muscle and sinew of his arm visible under the strain of his weight as I concede to what my body has been building up for. I convulse uncontrollably beneath his weight, beneath his God-like body, moaning incoherently.
    One final thrust and he stills, burying his head into the crook of my neck as he comes deep inside me, muttering my name in between our rasping breaths.
    HAYDEN
    Oh, my, God––that was incredible.
    I remain hovering above Samantha. Her legs remain wrapped unrestricted around my waist. I take a moment to appreciate the feel our bodies joined together as our harsh breathing and erratic heartbeats slowly begin to regulate. Her walls pulsate around me, the clamminess of her chest under me. Being this close, this intimate…I already know it’s something that I wish to maintain.
    I pull my head away from the crook of her neck, and study her profile. Her eyes are closed, as she takes deep meaningful breaths and exhales through pursed lips. I wish I could find something to say, but at this precise moment, all I can think about is making her writhe once more beneath me––to have her explode around me again.
    Reluctantly releasing my grip on her hip, I raise my left hand and sweep away the hair which is affixing down the side of her face and over her lower lip. With satisfied and appreciative eyes, I take the opportunity of this calming moment to absorb her features. Lightly trailing the back of my knuckles down her cheek, my mouth gradually curves into a placated smile that reaches my eyes, feeling content and tranquil as I bathe in our afterglow.
    Samantha’s eyes spring open as I––with distinct tenderness––brush my knuckles along her features. The passion and desire that was reflected at me only a while ago, now evaporated along with the moisture smothering our bodies. She no longer looks up at me with hungry, pleading, blue eyes full of need, and longing, but with detached, impassive, stony eyes.
    It’s unnerving.
    Samantha pulls her head away from my touch, and unhooks her legs from around my body. Her hands find my shoulders as she pushes me away from her body, pushing me off her.
    Um…hello, what is wrong with this situation ?
    What is happening? Why is she being like this? Was that not good for her? Was I not good? My subconscious rolls his eyes at me in an ‘ Oh, please’ sort of way. I pull out of her, leaving the warm, plush feel of the most intimate part of her body and push myself up from the couch.
    In an unnerving silence Samantha repositions herself on the sofa and adjusts her bra nonchalantly. With widening eyes she scans the room for her clothing, looking like a timid animal out of its habitat. She makes her way swiftly to the reception desk to fetch her blouse. Only the hollow noise of her peep-toe heels reverberates as she strides across the flooring.
    My heart accelerates. The