Phil's ass kept slipping out of my hands as my fondling of it apparently made Phil fuck me with maximum speed and intensity. The orgasm was welling in my loins when I heard Phil's guttal moan, sensed the convulsions of his own orgasm, and felt his cum enter me. I enjoyed the sensation of his squishy warm cum inside me even as I cursed myself for having been so swept up by my lust and excitement that I forgot to tell him to use a condom.
For the next three or four strokes I felt Phil's cum enter me, then he pulled out, let go of me, and grabbed the railing with both hands himself. My left foot fell to the ground as we both stood there letting our breath get slower and longer as the sounds and sensations of the cold salty sea came back to us.
He let go of the railing, and I heard him pull up and buckle his pants. I continued to recover. I was frustrated by my lack of an orgasm and angry with myself for forgetting the condom, but too exhausted from his pounding to say or do anything about it.
He grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him. "God you're hot," he said. For the first time this evening, Phil kissed me, roughly pressing his lips against mine and scrubbing my skin with his mustache. His lips parted my lips and his tongue explored my tongue. He pushed me to arm's length, looking me up and down. "We are definitely going to do that again." He pulled me back to him and kissed me lightly on the forehead. Then he turned and walked back down the deck.
As I watched him walk away, I felt his cum leak out of me and drip slowly down my inner left thigh. I knew I should begin cleaning it up, but instead I pulled the small role of folded one hundred dollar bills out of my bra from under my left breast and counted them.
There were six, just as we had agreed.
