"Don't worry about her, she just likes to watch..."

An egregious case of 'Heavy Petting'.

Aaron’s cock was, it has to be said, a truly magnificent specimen.

I rarely take the time to focus on penile descriptives as, for the most part, I suspect readers are more interested in the actions of the appendage than its appearance, but Aaron’s really has to be an exception.

He was in possession of a rare near perfect combination of both length and girth. His cock was thick, but not so excessively trunk like as to be entirely unyielding and uncomfortable, and long enough to be felt in all the enjoyable places but without feeling at risk of being split asunder. It was an impeccable weapon for sexual battle; deadly in skilled hands, but not so unwieldy as to be intimidating.

As these complimentary thoughts and considerations whizzed through my mind, I made a mental note to congratulate Aaron on his remarkable anatomical gift.

What I actually said was;

“Oh, fucking yes!”

As I rode it with the dedication and urgency of a champion jockey heading into the final furlong.

The foreplay had been, by my standards, remarkably brief. Tongues had entwined, hands had swiftly grabbed, stroked, tickled and tugged the various parts necessary for stimulation and clothing had hurriedly been shed.

Aaron was lying naked on his back, his cock erect and resplendent as an ancient edifice when the urge to have him inside me became overwhelming. With barely a word spoken, I mounted him and began to bounce like I was providing resuscitation.

The sensation was electric. Every move, every gyration, every twitch generated its own tiny spark of pleasure that cascaded through me, spurring on my pace and vigour.

Aaron was having an equally enjoyable time. Alternating from moment to moment between simply lying back and allowing the experience to wash over him, to sitting upright grasping firmly at my tits and occasionally leaning further forward to suck enthusiastically on a nipple.

As things began to cascade towards their inevitable conclusion, I pushed Aaron back flat on the bed and leant forward myself, my arms outstretched and locked in position each side of his head to steady myself while I galloped towards victory.

It was at this point, somewhere in my periphery, I heard a squeak.

The sound barely registered. I was too lost in enjoyment and focussed on the task in hand to be distracted by what was likely just a squeak of the bed-frame struggling to hold itself together under the sustained assault - the headboard banging noisily against the wall was similarly suffering.

“Are you close?” gasped Aaron, asking the most unnecessary and redundant question since “Is Pedro Pascal in this movie?”

The answer was so blindingly obvious I had to look away so as to not either fully laugh in his face or say something acerbic, either of which may have slightly dampened the roiling orgasm potentially only mere seconds away.

Which was when I notice that his bedroom door was no longer closed.

The tell-tale squeak had not been the bed bemoaning its injury, but the door swinging open and, vigorous though our antics had been, they’d certainly not been sufficiently seismic to have shifted the door on its hinges.

Confused, but still with Aaron’s majestic cock deep inside me, I turned my head to glance around the room.

Only to find a very pretty pair of blue eyes looking right back at me from the end of the bed.

“Oh, don’t worry about her,” said Aaron, straining to sound casual while his cock twitched manically inside me, eager to erupt. “She just likes to watch…”