An unusual commotion returned me to consciousness. Initially, it was subtle, caressing, pinching, then graduated into feverish groping. My eyes were slow to open. Grogginess clutched at me. Howard's arm still cradled me, but it was his fingers that had taken on agitation.

His breathing was rough. I heard him struggling to get air. His head rocked the pillow. His body slithered against mine, not convulsively, but enough to jar me awake.

Was he undergoing some kind of dream? Perhaps he was having a nightmare. I was puzzled by his reaction. It was as though he couldn't emotionally reconcile something running through his subconscious.

"Howie, are you okay?"

He didn't answer. Instead, his movements were more inflamed. He squeezed me against him, clutching my breast. I felt the impassioned imprint of his fingers. His heart beat rapidly against me back. His powerful thighs were molded to the backs of mine.

"Howie…"

I craned my head in his direction. He gave me only a moment to glimpse him. His eyes were shut, his features intense. Sweat dripped from his brow. Even in his torrid state, he must have known it was me in his arms.

His mouth went to mine. I couldn't get my lips open fast enough to receive that hot spirited tongue. His flicks brought instant stimulation. I stopped asking questions of him. Howard obviously awoke in a horny swelter, in the middle of the night, and was overcome by a whim he couldn't control. What he firmly told me he wouldn't do was not foremost in his mind. Gripping me by the shoulders, he turned me until I faced him.

I slid under him, spreading my legs. He lifted himself onto his elbows, allowing me room. Although anxious, he took steps to facilitate matters.

It was I who guided him into me. I put the bulbous head at my opening.

"It's going to be so good," I promised, staring up at those dark eyes. "So good, baby. So fucking good."

He gripped my shoulders and started to push into me. I wasn't set for the sparks, the flash of lightning. The heat of his loins permeated mine. My eyes rolled up in their sockets, my lips tensing over my teeth, my cells numb with lust.

"Oh, Howie," I said, biting my lip. "Oh, Howie, Howie baby."

He stopped midway. His eyes searched mine until I focused. "Do you want me to -"

"No, I just got a little steamed up. Get it all in there. Don't worry. It feels good. Really good."

"Oh, yeah?" His eyes were glazed, distant. He started sinking into me.

"Oh man," he muttered under his breath. "You're tight."

I gasped. "I want all of you in me, every bit."

Eager to accomplish that, I kicked my legs up high. My knees settled upon those broad shoulder blades.

"Yes," I cried out, "shove that big fucker into me. Please Howie."

Howard, unaccustomed to the language I used in bed, declined borrowing those same base terms. Sweat, poured from his face, fell on me, hitting me breasts. His features looked flushed, withered.

His hands slid under my butt, dragging me closer to him. The pleasure of having him completely embedded was exquisite.

"Oh, my," I sobbed, rolling my eyes heavenward. "Oh, Howie. Hold still. Don't move."

He did as I requested. I could see the tortured expression. Sweat dribbled from his forehead, off his nose. His grip on me was tremulous. A wild quiver raced through me. The effort to contain his bulk was tremendous.

"I'm going to cum," I told him, just as the urge to do so hit me. "Oh, Howie -"

My vision blurred as the contractions began. I sobbed, trashing and bucking. I was at the pinnacle of sexual excitement. I never thought I could cum that hard. It was the best orgasm I ever had.

Instead of exhausting me, I was energized. My appetite for Howard was stronger. I rocked myself at him, feeling myself flutter over his pulsating shaft.

"Fuck me some more," I pleaded. "Fuck me exactly the way you've always wanted. Don't hold back. I'm so horny, you couldn't possibly hurt me."

Howie started gliding in and out of me. I writhe and moaned as I felt him occupy me. All that sliding, jamming, and thrusting felt so good. My inflammatory words set the tempo. He pushed and pushed, getting every inch of himself into me.

Fucking me as strenuously as he did ultimately exacted its toll on him. His cheeks were fever-bright, his mouth tense, his eyes glassy. I knew he was about to cum. I wanted to share that volcanic experience with him. I fastened my hands to his hips and jerked myself back and forth, enjoying that hardness. Oh, he gave me incredible sex! I was cumming like a nympho.

"Ohhhhhhhh!" I cried, seared by the power of orgasm. "Oh, Howie! It's so good!"

"Yeah," he muttered, just as he erupted.

The fire in his eyes faded as he finished cumming. I held my arms out to him, inviting him to collapse against me. He did, covering me with his sweat-drenched body.

"Oh, Sherl," he gasped, devoid of energy. "Oh, Sherl."

I felt his heart hammering against my chest. I was pinned by his weight. The arrangement of his arms and legs made escape an impossibility.

I didn't care. I drifted off to sleep with him.