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“Ride me as hard as you can, princess. And then I’ll feed you.”
She did. She rode as hard as she could and it was wild. Tristan looked astonished when he had his climax, the sound he made alone would make a stadium filled with women cream their pants.
News Alert! Pants creaming crisis --- nationwide!~~~They took a shower together in a bathroom down the hall from that bedroom.
“Where are we?” she asked him while he worked lather through her hair and she lathered up his abs. She knew something was up, of course, waking up to that drama and getting that kind of reaction from him and being in a weird place but she’d just given herself over to the beauty of the moment.
“What’s the last thing you remember?
“I’m not quite sure. It’s hazy.”
“I have a lot to tell you,” he replied, pulling her close, “Tip your head back.”
She did and he began to rinse her hair out. His fingers felt so good on her head. She moaned at how good they felt. But then his lips, followed by his teeth were on her throat again, drinking.
“God, you’re thirsty,” she moaned.
He swallowed a few times and then let go, “You feel okay, right? I’m reading you right?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“Because I’m feeling everything, thank god, and you don’t feel depleted at all and yet I’ve fed so much. I’ve been a little starved but couldn’t take much from you, couldn’t risk depleting you too much…”
“No, I feel fine. I need food soon but I’m good.” She scrubbed soap over his chest and up over his shoulders, then trailed down toward his abs again. She would never get tired of rubbing her hands up and down those abs.
“Damn,” he said and then drank more, this time from the other side of her throat and then he was inside her again, thrusting deep and lifting her off the shower floor, “You taste fucking amazing! Better than you’ve ever tasted.”
“You always say that.”
“And I always mean it.”
She gave him a big smile and got her hands between his legs and started working him over.
He carried her back to the bed and was all over her.
‘You’re a machine,” she groaned, “Take a break and make me an omelette before my vajayjay falls off!”
He laughed, “You’ve lost weight. I’ll make you a ten-egg omelette with four pounds of cheese. As soon as I come.”
She pulled away and pointed at his cock, “Down boy! You’ve come four times.”
He laughed some more and rolled her onto her side and spooned against her, getting back inside from behind, his teeth piercing her shoulder as he growled, “I need one more. Now, baby.”~~~Tristan pulled his jeans back on and pulled her to the kitchen after his “one more.”
Kyla had gotten up, put on some shorts and a t-shirt, and while Tristan made food she looked out the window ahead of the long farm table that delineated the space in front of a massive window.
The landscape in front of her was hard to see as it was nighttime but she could see that it was water beyond a beach. The sky was starry, giving her a bit of the promise of a fantastic view. There were two people on the beach, one carrying something over his shoulder. Was that a person being carried?
“Baby.” He was behind her, bare chested, gray sweatpants sitting low on his hips, and he had plates of food, one in each of his hands. He kissed her shoulder and passed her a plate and they walked back to that bedroom. He climbed onto the bed beside her and they dug in to large cheesy omelettes with buttered toast.
He reached into one pocket and pulled out a bottle of water, put the plate on the bed and then reached into the other pocket and pulled out a purple juice box. He handed her the juice box.
She chuckled at it, “A juice box? Am I five?”
“Haven’t got grape Fanta but you’ve been asking for grape. I found a few boxes of grape juice in the fridge so Sasha must’ve found some.”
“When did I ask for grape Fanta? Who’s Sasha? Where are we?”
“Eat, then we’ll talk.”
“So bossy. Wait, I tasted grape when I woke up from that weird dream.”
He showed dimples and leaned over and kissed her temple. Then he got a faraway look for a second and said,
“You have no idea how happy I am to have you telling me not to boss you. No fucking idea, princess.”
She dug in to the omelette, freaking famished, “Uh…but yet you’re still bossing me?”
He smiled big. No, huge.
“You tasted grape?”
“Mm hmm,” she mumbled as she chewed a big bite of the food.
“Hmm.”
“Hmm what?”
“Eat, princess. Then we’ll talk.”
“How ‘bout some polite dinner conversation?” she suggested, “Where you enlighten me…”
He ate a bite, swallowed, then took another bite and swallowed a mouthful of water. She waited, watching him.
