We snuggled, but she kept wiggling her butt and giggling as I sighed with the pleasure she was giving me. I shifted positions and suddenly the shaft of my cock was clear of her, but the tip found a soft spot and I pressed forward.
“No you don’t,” she giggled. “Not in there.”
She repositioned herself slightly, reached back and took hold of my cock, and lifted her top leg. My cock came alive as I felt her heat and wetness on my cock head. I pushed my hips forward and gently entered her.
“Mmm,” she purred. “‘Lovers’ Position,’ I think is what this is called.” It was a soft, gentle position that didn’t allow deep penetration or rapid movement. That was fine with me. My cock had taken a pounding already, and even though it stubbornly insisted on getting hard again, it felt kind of numb. I didn’t feel like I had another orgasm lined up any time soon.
We got into a nice rhythm. After a while, her intensity picked up, and finally she pushed back hard, shuddered and had a very sweet and romantic orgasm.
After the emotional roller coaster of our first session and the unexpected urgency and violence of our second, it was refreshing and relaxing and quite enjoyable. I was happy that she had cum again and I had no desire to push myself to another climax. I held her close, still inside her, and we drifted back to sleep.
++++++++++
It was still dark outside, but the faintest, earliest hint of dawn was peeking through somewhere.
“You awake?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“Please don’t be disgusted by this…I don’t usually smoke, but I desperately need a cigarette right now.”
“It’s cool, I could use one. You got some?”
“Dalia keeps an emergency pack. I think this qualifies as an emergency. We have to use the balcony though.”
The night was still dark and deserted enough that we didn’t bother getting dressed. There was only one cigarette left, but I enjoyed the intimacy of sharing it.
We leaned on the railing as we smoked. An early bird jogger ran by across the street. He might have been able to see us if he looked up, but he didn’t.
“I didn’t know Dalia smokes,” I said. I kept my voice low. It was a warm night, and nearby dwellers in the apartment-dense neighborhood might have left their windows open.
“She doesn’t. She used to, but she quit before we met. She smokes once in a blue moon, mostly times like now.”
“You mean…”
“Yeah,” she said with a quiet laugh. “After really wild sex. Stereotypical, I know. But post-sex nicotine fits are real. Sometimes I have a cigarette with her, and I really had the craving just now.”
Jenny took the last puff, snuffed it out on the rail and tossed it into the bushes three stories below.
“Anyway,” she said, “this will be the last one I have for a long time.” I assumed she was referring to the pregnancy she and Dalia were planning. A shadow crossed my mood as I was reminded about the very risky couplings Jenny and I had shared already and the conversation we needed to have.
“Dalia and I have fucked out here,” she said, successfully recapturing my attention.
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