Holy fuck. I don’t know how it’s possible for the sex to continue to get better because it was wonderful from the start. I came so many times I was exhausted and he held me as I continued to spasm from aftershocks. Every time he touched me again I’d go right back into another rolling orgasm that had my legs quivering. We laid in a puddle, panting. It was so intense that I began to cry as he held me. I sobbed into his chest, feeling the aftershocks. I was overcome with love and gratitude for having him in my world and it came out in the form of tears. He stayed inside of me after he came, held me tightly. I cried because I was so overwhelmed with the level of intimacy. It was too much to take in. Any time we shifted a bit the waves of pleasure would hit me again and I’d moan uncontrollably. He felt so good inside of me I didn’t want to pull away. We laid like that for a long time. I held his face and kissed him a hundred times over, caressing the back of his head, his neck, his cheek. He touched me with such care, such intent. Our eyes met many times and I challenged myself to hold his gaze. It’s hard for me to hold it for too long because it sends me to a precipitous place. I linger in his gaze as long as I dare, then closed my eyes and burrowed into his chest, holding him tightly.