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“Where’s the condom?” I ask.

“In my wallet.”

I roll my eyes. “What a cliché.”

“Not that much of a cliché considering you’re asking for it.”

I laugh. “Facts.” I locate his wallet on the nightstand, and I flip it open. It feels for a second like the same thing as a man rifling through a woman’s purse. It’s personal, and it feels like he’s putting his trust in me by allowing me to do this.

It’s a fairly simple wallet as wallets go. His license, along with a few credit cards in the slots, some bills in the back, and tucked away in the inside pocket is the condom he referred to. I pull it out, and I tear it open.

“I’ve never put one of these on a man before,” I admit.

“Need me to walk you through it?”

I lift a shoulder as my eyes meet his, and he does it without me having to ask.

“Lesson three. Rolling on the condom.”

I laugh.

“It’s pretty simple, really. Pinch the tip and roll it on.”

“Pinch the tip?” I ask.

He nods. “So when I come, it has somewhere to go.”

I pinch the tip as instructed, and I glance at him. He’s nodding, so I assume I did that part correctly. I move over to his cock, and he holds it up for me. I roll the condom down until I run out of material to roll, keeping the top pinched, and then I look up at him.

He’s beaming at me. “Perfect. Now get naked so I can see your gorgeous body.”

I follow that directive as well, and I climb onto the bed.

“Fuck, my wife is so hot,” he murmurs.

I climb over him, and I sit on his lap just above where his cock is to get my bearings. He reaches up, his rough hands running along my torso and stopping on my breasts.

“What do I do?” I ask softly. It’s like I forgot how hands work or what to do with them.

“Do whatever makes you feel good,” he murmurs. “You can lean forward and brace yourself on the pillows or my shoulders, or you can lean on the headboard. If you’re ready to be more advanced, you can play with your clit or tits while you ride me.”

I nod, and I reach back because touching his cock makes me feel good. He groans as I fist him and start to move my hand up and down, and then I let go, lift up, and scoot back. I fist him from the front this time, and I watch as I slide down over him.

Holy hell, it’s hot watching as he enters me. I glance up and see him watching, too, and he’s mesmerized by the view.

So am I.

I test out moving up and down, giving my thighs a workout, and oh God, this angle is so different than the other one. It’s better. He’s reaching some spot inside me that’s making me see stars, and we’re just getting started.

His hands slide up and down my torso, and I close my eyes and lean back as I move over him. He feels so good, and it feels different than last time. Maybe because there was so much pressure on it being the first time that I didn’t allow myself to just have fun. I was too focused on pain versus pleasure and whether I was doing things right. But this time, there’s this edge of emotion there after the words we exchanged, and my heart feels like it’s full of love for this man.

It feels like I’ll never get enough of him.

I’m addicted to him. The way he smells, the way he looks at me, the way he takes care of me. The way he fucks.

All of him.

I set my hands on my tits, and he starts to pump a little harder as I massage myself, as I tweak my own nipples. His excitement spurs me on, and the moans coming out of me are downright pornographic as he starts his dirty talk.