The Kings Of Cool

162

Stan can’t sleep.

(Macbeth hath murdered sleep.)

The guilt is ferocious and yet he has to admit that he feels a little titillated.

Powerful.

Giving, if not the order, the permission.

He rolls to his side and pushes against Diane’s warm ass. Reaches around and strokes her until she stirs and wiggles back into him.

She’s wet enough and he pushes into her.

Into it now, she cooperates and rolls her hips.

He’s harder than usual and she feels it.

“Baby,” she says.

It’s the best sex they’ve had in years. She arches her neck and pushes her ass back against his hips.

“You’re so deep,” she murmurs.

“I know.”

She comes before he does. Reaches back and touches his face when he comes, deep inside her.

A seminal fuck.