I felt weak and numb, beaten into silence by his pounding fuck. He was never a weak fuck. Gray’s bolts were rough and pulverizing—exactly what I craved. How long did he thrust his weight into my rear, pull his shaft out, and thrust in again? It felt as if hours had ticked by, perhaps even days. No matter how long he was at work behind me, I enjoyed every naked second with Gray, in love with the cowboy, inseparable from his lustful connection.
Nor was I shy and quiet beneath him. I worked at being a power bottom and shifted my ass up into his bashing cock. I rushed my backside against his spike, eager to fulfill us both. I was never timid under his riding weight. I was energetic, busily colliding into his post, offering us both friction and a path to our heated orgasms.