Lust Meter System: Conquering Beauties

Chapter 257: Say Thank You!

"No way," she said, staring at him. "You’re still hard after all of that. What the hell are you made of."

Liam looked at her lying on the mat, chest still heaving, skin still flushed, and said nothing about the question.

"Turn over," he said.

She looked at him for a second. Then she pushed herself over onto her stomach, her arms finding the mat, and she planted both hands flat on the floor and raised her hips up, her butt pushed back and high, her back sloping down toward her hands like a ramp. Her legs were straight, her toes pressed into the mat, everything pointed upward.

Liam moved behind her.

He looked at the view for a moment.

Her butt was right there, round and high in the air, the curve of it catching the light in the room, her pussy visible from this angle, pink and wet and already swollen from everything that had come before.

He pushed in.

"Oh," she said, her arms locking straight to absorb it.

He grabbed her hips and started moving immediately, no warm up, no gradual build, just straight into a rhythm that had weight behind it from the first stroke.

"Mm," she said. "Oh."

He drove deeper on the next stroke and her arms bent slightly from the force, her head dropping between them.

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

"Liam," she said. "Oh god."

Her butt shook with every impact, the flesh rippling back from where his hips met it, the sound of skin sharp and clean in the quiet of the apartment. Her boobs swayed beneath her, brushing against the yoga mat surface on the deeper strokes when her arms bent further under the force.

He picked up the pace.

"Oh," she said. "Oh that’s. Mm."

She pushed her hips back to meet each stroke, her body finding the rhythm and committing to it, the two of them working together now, the sound of it filling the room continuously.

"Liam," she said. "I’m. Oh god I’m still sensitive from before."

"I know," he said.

He kept going.

"Oh," she said. "Oh. Mm. Right there. Don’t. Oh."

Then she went quiet for a second.

"My leg," she said. "It’s cramping. My left one. Oh god it’s cramping."

"Bet," he said.

He reached down and scooped both arms under the backs of her knees, lifting her completely off the mat in one smooth movement, pulling her up and back against him until her back was flat against his chest, both her legs raised high in the air in front of her, her feet pointing at the ceiling, her whole weight supported against him.

"Liam," she said, her voice completely different now, the cramp forgotten immediately. "What are you doing."

He was still inside her.

He adjusted his position by tilting his hips forward and finding the angle, both hands gripping the undersides of her thighs, holding her legs up and open.

Then he started moving.

Using just his hips, driving up into her from below while she rested against his chest with her legs in the air, her butt completely open to him from this angle, the whole position held entirely by his strength.

"Oh," she said. "Oh. Oh god."

Ta. Ta. Ta.

’This angle is something else,’ he thought, feeling her tighten around him immediately from the change in position. ’Every single time I think I’ve found all the angles there’s another one.’

He drove up harder.

"Oh," she said. "Oh that’s. Liam. Oh my god."

Her legs were shaking in his hands, her whole body vibrating slightly against his chest with every thrust, her boobs bouncing visibly in front of her with each upward drive.

"Oh," she said. "Oh I can’t. Oh god I’m going to."

He drove up faster.

"Liam," she said. "Liam. Liam. Oh."

Her head dropped back against his shoulder, her whole body going rigid against him, a long sound leaving her that started loud and then kept going, her legs pulling together around his hands as the waves moved through her.

He held her through it, his hips still working, carrying her through every second of it until she went loose against him, completely spent, her head still back on his shoulder, her breathing wrecked and slow.

He let her legs down carefully, lowering her feet back to the floor, keeping one arm around her waist until she found her balance.

He pulled back and looked at her lying flat on the mat, completely done, her chest moving in slow pulls against the surface.

Then he looked at her butt still sitting round and present in the air from the position she had collapsed in.

He reached down and lifted her hips back up.

"Liam," she said into the mat. "I can’t."

He pushed in anyway.

"Oh," she said. The word came out completely different from every other time she had said it that afternoon. Deeper. More tired. More surprised that her own body was responding despite everything it had already been through.

He started moving.

Not fast. Not hard. Just steady and continuous, his hands spread across her butt, his hips finding a rhythm that was different from the two before it, something longer and slower, each stroke pulling almost all the way out before pressing fully back in.

Ta. Ta. Ta.

"Oh god," she said into the mat. "Oh. Mm."

Her hands were still stretched above her head from when she had collapsed, fingers loosely gripping the edge of the yoga mat, and she held on tighter now as he kept going, her knuckles going pale against the mat surface.

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

"Liam," she said. "I’m so sensitive right now. Everything you’re doing I can feel it so much more than."

She stopped talking.

He kept going.

She made sounds into the mat that had no words in them, just her voice responding to what was happening to her body, each sound arriving before she decided to make it. Her butt shook with every stroke, the flesh moving with each impact, her boobs pressed flat beneath her shifting slightly with the rhythm.

He moved his hands from her butt to her waist, pulling her back to meet him on each stroke rather than just pushing forward, the two forces combining, the depth increasing with every pull.

"Oh," she said. "Oh that’s. Oh god."

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

"Liam," she said. Her voice was completely used up, rough and small, barely above the sound of the rhythm. "I don’t have anything left."

He drove forward harder.

"Oh," she said. That was all. Just that one sound arriving over and over with each stroke.

He picked the pace up.

"Oh," she said. "Oh. Oh. Liam."

Her grip on the mat tightened completely. Her toes pressed hard into the floor. Her whole body had gone from loose and spent to tight and present again, her sounds climbing back up toward something despite every claim she had made about having nothing left.

"Oh god," she said. "Oh god I’m. Again. I can’t believe I’m going to again."

He didn’t slow down.

"Liam," she said. "Liam. Oh."

She came.

For the third time, her whole body locking against the mat, her hands gripping the edge of it, a sound tearing out of her that went through the apartment and didn’t stop until she ran out of breath to put behind it.

Her thighs trembled against his hands, her pussy gripping him in tight continuous waves, her back arching upward despite being pressed against the mat, her whole frame shaking through every second of it.

He held her through all of it, his hips slowing but not stopping, carrying her through the full length of the release until the shaking stopped and the tension left her body completely and she went flat and still against the mat.

He stayed there for a moment feeling her breathe.

Then he felt his own building.

He kept moving, slower now, deeper, his jaw tight, the pace controlled and deliberate.

She made small exhausted sounds beneath him with each stroke, too tired to do anything more than register what was still happening to her.

His pace built back up on its own, his hands gripping her waist hard, the rhythm losing its control as everything climbed toward its end.

He came.

His hands pulled her against him and he held there, a low rough sound leaving him through his teeth, everything releasing in waves until it was completely done.

He stayed still for a long moment afterward, both of them breathing, the apartment quiet around them, the yoga mat beneath them thoroughly defeated.

Then he pulled back slowly and sat on his heels.

She lay completely flat.

Both arms stretched above her, face turned to the side against the mat, cheek pressed against the surface.

Her hair was spread in every direction with no relationship to where it had started.

Her skin was flushed deep pink from the back of her neck all the way down to her thighs, the color consistent and thorough like she had been in the sun for hours.

Her butt sat round and still, the only part of her that had maintained any shape through everything.

Her boobs were pressed flat beneath her, visible at the sides, rising and falling slowly with each tired breath she took.

She looked like someone who had started the afternoon with a workout and ended up somewhere significantly further from that than she had planned.

Liam looked at her lying there.

"Kneel down," he said.

She made a sound into the mat that wasn’t a word.

"Britney," he said.

She moved. Slowly. Her arms pushing against the mat, her body finding its way upright by degrees, her legs shaking as she got her knees under her.

She ended up kneeling in front of him, her eyes slightly unfocused, her lips parted, her hair completely across her face.

She pushed her hair back with one hand and looked at him.

Then she took him in her mouth.

She worked slowly, her hands on his thighs, her tongue pressing flat against the underside of him and moving in long strokes.

She tasted herself on him and kept going, taking more of him with each movement, her head finding a steady rhythm despite everything her body had just been through.

He put his hand on the back of her head.

She went deeper.

Her throat worked around him, her hands pressing down on his thighs, her eyes occasionally finding his face from below and staying there for a moment before going back to what she was doing.

She found the pace that made his hand tighten in her hair and she stayed on it, consistent and deliberate, not changing anything.

He came.

His hand pulled her hair taut, a rough sound leaving him as everything released, and she stayed exactly where she was, her throat working, swallowing once and then again until it was completely done.

She pulled back slowly and sat on her heels.

She looked up at him, her lips swollen, her eyes glassy and soft, her chest rising and falling with slow tired breaths.

He looked down at her.

"Say thank you," he said.

She looked at him for a moment.

"Thank you," she said.