Free The Story of X: An Erotic Tale by A. J. Molloy

my thighs, in my veins. And then come the aftershocks,
     the helpless quivering, the delicious tremors of my skin. The thudding heartbeat of
     release.
    “That was . . . it was . . .” I can barely speak the words. I look down at him, his
     dark and beautiful face, his stubbled jaw between my still trembling thighs. “The
     first . . . the f-f-f-f- . . . the . . . oh Jesus, oh . . . f-f-fuck—”
    He is smiling, or something, I cannot tell, but I hear him softly talking, as his
     face moves to kiss my belly, as his hands push my thighs still farther apart.
    “Sei un cervo—un cervo bianco.”
    He is undoing his jeans.
    “Alexandra.”
    I am helpless and pooled on the bed, half laughing with delight, all wetness and wanting
     and wildness; I will let him do anything to me now. Anything he likes. He can ravage
     me and ravish me, and ravel me up. But I also want him inside me .
    And he knows this.
    “Alex.”
    “Yes?”
    “Are you sure? Are you certain, cara mia ?”
    “I am certain, Marc. I am yours, all of me .”
    And I am certain, oh so certain. I am hungry for him.
    In the half-light I can see him pulling off his shoes and tearing away his socks until
     he is a barefoot warrior standing tall, something fine and Greek, something noble
     and heroic; then he pulls down his jeans and yes—oh my Lord, yes—now I can see his
     erection, thick and hard and ready. And before I even know it, he is slipping deep
     inside my wetness, driving inside me—big and powerful. Almost brutal.
    The sensation is inexplicable. We fit, we fit together all too well; like he was meant
     to be inside me, meant to be on top of me all my life, meant to be fucking me. And
     now my thighs yield to his thighs, my strength succumbs to his greater strength, like
     this is a kind of fighting, or the most sublime dancing. But this isn’t dancing: this
     is fucking; he is fucking me. Powerful and gentle. And I want to kiss him as we fuck.
     So I reach my white arms up to bring him down, to kiss his face, so handsome and serious
     in the moonlight, and he descends, and we kiss, and now our tongues are softly combating,
     like his maleness inside me.
    “I love you inside me.”
    “I love fucking you.”
    We kiss again and I gently bite his lips and then he bites my neck a little harder,
     and I soar upward inside as he thrusts, and thrusts again, and once more.
    “No, wait, I have to fuck you from behind .”
    Deftly, he lifts me up—like a ballet dancer, a naked ballerina in his commanding hands—and
     then he flips me over in a single, skillful movement. I don’t know how he does it—how
     did he do that?—but now I am sprawled facedown on the bed, my cheek pressed into the
     pillow, and I sense my thighs being hungrily pushed apart, firmly opened to his desire,
     as he plunges into me again, harder, expert, thrusting, and his weight is on top of
     me, his chest on my back, and I love it.
    I love the sense of his hard body on top, weighing me down, as he thrusts and presses,
     again, and once again. Oh God. Ohmygod. Moaning and sighing, I twist my face from
     the pillow to look up at him. He is serious and somber, he is smiling but angry.
    “My beautiful girl.”
    “Fuck me harder.”
    Breathing deep, he takes me entirely; he thrusts again, deep and slow, and I look
     up at him once more, as he possesses me; and then his right hand slips under my pelvis
     and I realize he is reaching for my clitoris as he fucks me from behind.
    Oh God no, oh God yes. Helpless and quivering, I turn my face to the pillow and gasp
     as his fingers find my clitoris, as he presses sweetly with his fingers, pressing
     and stroking, even as he fucks me. And now the pleasure mounts to a second crescendo,
     a second cadenza, a brand-new climax, the sensation of his fingers and his driving
     cock all at once, it is way too much.
    Oh yes.
    Yesyesyes.
    This orgasm is sharper and harder; it is quite different, quite animalistic, and abandoned,
     and