They couldn’t be closer, she above, he below, his cock fully in her cunt, her face pressed to his, their lovemaking glacier-slow. She’d come three times so far, able to climax by squeezing and pressing and wanting it and willing it. He was saving his. From underneath he could last practically forever. Being 57, thirty years older than her, helped.

Sometimes their fuck stalled, their bodies joined but motionless, her cunt quiet, flexing just enough to keep him hard. “This is so good,” she whispered. “Mmm,” he agreed, giving her two gentle upthrusts. She chuckled. “But is any sex bad?” she asked. Now it was his turn to chuckle. The movement hit her just right. She came—a surprise come. “That was a good one,” she said. “Is any orgasm bad?” he asked. They chuckled together, and then mirth gave way (more or less) to passion, and the fuck went fierce and full throttle as they both strove toward climax. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” he groaned, bucking upward. She gasped, a sound like oafffff with the f of it drawn out, her cunt seizing his cock as they came together.