Later, we fucked in her room. It was very dark and the shades were down. I was on top of her, doing my technique where I moved slowly and caressed her body up and down with each rhythm and, while she lay there thinking how romantic this was, gradually speeding up until it turned in to raw, visceral, panting, thwapping, bed-squeaking sex. We were getting towards that latter part. She was in a breathy mood this evening; her lips curled up showing her teeth, which were parted and made her expression turn from almost angry to disbelieving, to giving in. She arrived at this last expression as my balls starting slapping against her and she craned her neck back and shut her eyes. She made a noise that was a fast paced version of the noise a woman makes when she’s beginning to laugh at the inappropriate joke you made. I grunted long, guttural grunts. I heard the bed scrape against the floor. It was actually moving forward. I was fucking Brie, and her bed. I wonder if the bed liked it. It scraped again, louder, and further forward. She balled a chunk of my hair up in her hand and said, between broken breaths, “Dennis. Dennis. I’m coming.” She did a full body jerk to her right and the bed groaned against the floor again. It bumped against the wall. She grabbed at the edge of the mattress, missing her target the first time, then latching on to it. I pressed one hand down on her mattress and propped my body above hers like I was doing a one armed push-up. This allowed my groin to sort of flex so my cock could move about ten times faster. It was an idea I’d gotten at the gym while doing actual push-ups. She started yelping. I cupped one of her legs in my hand and pushed it forward to give myself more room. I trembled from holding myself in this position. I felt like if I got an aneurysm from fucking a girl this hard it would be totally worth it. She said, “Oh my God.” She took several rapid breaths. An orchestra of bedsprings going squeak squeak squeak squeak and rapid female breathing. “Fuck,” she said. The bed scraped against the wall again. She ripped the bed sheet off the mattress and her arm careened through the air; her hand swiped my chest. Her eyes were shut and she vocalizing the entire pentatonic scale, though favoring the "do" note. My hand swept down her leg in a mutual muscle spasm; her leg jerking forward and my arm surrendering. I collapsed on top of her. My head touched down on her pillow. My orgasm felt like it took two minutes. I could feel the condom getting squeezed off my cock half-inch by half-inch. Brie's exhales were long and loud and sounded like she said ‘Ga’ over and over. She squeezed me twice with her arms and legs and I didn’t give a fuck if the rubber broke if it felt this good. I didn't want this to end. When I got back to my room, I found a note on the door: MEET US AT THE BACK OF STORM AT 5:30. WE KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE CLASS THEN. WE KNOW YOU WON’T REGRET IT.