Fucking Mary as she climaxed underneath him should have been one of the most erotic and satisfying moments imaginable, and in some ways it was, like, to his ego it was pretty great, knowing he’d been the one to bring her to the heights of pleasure with such intensity that she could barely speak. But fuck, right this second he didn’t care about his ego because he just wanted to come, he wanted to fall apart too, he wanted her to reduce him to a barely functioning twitching ball of pleasure. What the hell was wrong with him? He thought he’d left everything that had happened to him behind when he’d buried his head between her thighs but obviously not.
He did hit a crest of pleasure, but it wasn’t anything like what he wanted, what he needed, and he buried his face into her neck with a moan, one of his hands raking across the sheets and yanking the elastic corner away from the mattress. It was still something though and Mary still looked like she was having a goddamn good time, he could still feel her muscles clenching around him and he clenched his jaw in return, whimpering against her neck.
What could he do about it, though? Much collapsed against her, his chest heaving, trying to gather himself back to rights before he lifted his head from her neck.