Stairway to sex

She wanted the whole staircase, not just the top. We’d climbed three months of it together. Each step brought a different kind of heat. The first was soft touches under clothing. The next was mouths and tongues tasting each other until she moaned my name. Then came the nights she came on my fingers, shaking and wet, while I watched her face twist with pleasure. Today we reached the final landing. She’s eighteen, blonde, and on her knees in front of me on the stairs. Her lips stretch tight around my cock as she works me deeper. Her eyes water, but she doesn’t stop. She pulls off just long enough to catch her breath, strings of spit connecting her mouth to the head, then she dives back in. When she finally stands and turns, palms flat on the step above her, I push inside her. She’s soaked. I fuck her slow at first, watching the way her back arches with every thrust. Then harder. Her breath comes in short gasps. She asks me to pull out when I’m close. I do. The first thick rope lands across her cheek, the rest on her lips and tongue. She smiles through it, licking the corner of her mouth, looking up at me like we just finished a race we both wanted to win.