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“Son of a bitch. Say it again baby. What am I?'' I reach under her, my fingers pinching her clit. I am about to release, and I need her to cum first. “Tell me baby.” I whisper in her ear, biting just behind her ear and every part of her leading to her shoulder. “What am I baby?”
“O vasiliás mou.”
“That’s right my little Philli. Your fucking king and I demand you put all of your weight on me and let me carry you through the sorrow into light baby. I love you,” are the last words I say to her, before she screams, thrashing, bucking, wildly, no longer able to control herself, the passion and fire that we have always had. I look down, seeing our combined milk as it drips down out of her pussy down her thigh, wetting mine at the same time, since I have yet to pull out, needing to feel her a bit longer, the quivering and throbbing of her cunt pulling the last of me. Not ready for it to be over, I hear a growl leave her throat as I bring her to one more orgasm. I feel myself preparing to soak her one more time. I never have been able to control myself when I am inside of her. I continue to grind my hand on her clit, keeping her cumming through my own epic release. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Take it, Philli. Take it. Squeeze that cunt for me baby. Take all of it.” I grunt out as I shake, continuing to pound her from the back, never wanting this feeling to stop.
We both finish, exhausted and full of emotions. I drop to the bed, my cock still inside of her, not willing to remove it yet. I pull her into arms, kissing her lips, telling her how much I love her. How much I have missed her. Reminding her the vows we made to one another. She kisses me back, the tears pouring down her face. I can see the war within her, as she fights, caught between two emotions. Both of which I understand. “Just lay here with me baby. We have tomorrow to deal with the darkness. Stay in the light with me, tonight.” This is the last thing I remember saying before I fall asleep, my arms and legs holding her tight against me, not giving her the room to leave me. How do we overcome this?Chapter FourPhillipaWaking up, I stretch, my arms and legs sore from being cuddled into him all night. I move to get up, the soreness between my legs, evidence of the way I let go last night. For one night, I was just, Phillipa. Wife of the sexiest, caring and possessive man I have ever met. For one night, I was not the woman who couldn’t do the basic thing a woman is supposed to do. Give my husband a family. Sure, the doctors said there is nothing wrong with either of us, but if that were true, we would be surrounded by kids by now. Right?
Looking over at his side of the bed, I feel a sense of relief that we don’t have to have the talk I know is going to come eventually. My feelings are just too raw for that. But I also feel sad. I can’t remember the last time, I got to watch his handsome face as he laid in bed, not bogged down with sorrow and worry. Even after things began to get tense between us, the one thing he wouldn’t budge on, is that I was to still sleep in our bed. I tried to argue, but he held fast. So, I would just get up every morning before him and go into another room until he left. Huh. Having him do just that this morning, I get a taste of what he must feel. I don’t like it.
Knowing I must get up and shower, I take the sheets off the bed, put them in the wash and sit in the tub, needing to soak my swollen red pussy. Pouring in some bath salt, I slide into the hot water and sigh. Jesus. What the hell did he do to me last night? I find my hands running over my body, remembering everything, tracing the places he bit, the places he kissed and the places he licked. Pinching my breast, I find myself once again in heat, everything sensitive and needy. I run my hands over my stomach, taking a second to wish that last night produces something before continuing down to my pussy that even in water I feel is slick and sticky.
I rub over my clit, gasping at how in tune it is to everything by body missed about being trapped under him. My fingers slide in and out of my pussy, my body tingling, every sound leaving my mouth breathy and wanting more. Moving more and more, fucking my own fingers, trying to recreate the feeling I got from being taken by him, but it’s no use. Nothing could ever make me feel like the man I gave my mind, body and soul too, all those years ago.
