Page 122 of Rough

And it came.

My eyes rolled back in my head.

A tingling shot through me.

And, finally, I could speak.

Kind of.

“Holy Craaaaaap!” I wailed.

As I began to come, his girth swelled to two-fold his normal size.

It drove me into the most intense orgasm of my lifetime, sending me into a mindless frenzy of bucking my hips, crying, and blubbering out incomprehensible jibberish.

Half way into my orgasm, he released inside of me, which drove me into another orgasm altogether.

Within thirty seconds, I’d collapsed onto his chest, a fraction of my former self.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest. “I’m…done.”

Both exhausted, and afraid to move for fear of upsetting the other, we lay motionless at each other’s side.

“You alive,” he asked after some time.

“Barely,” I said.

“Wake the fuck up,” he bellowed.

“I can’t.”

“So, you’re worn the fuck out?”

“Yep.”

“You’re going to put up minimal resistance?”

“Uh huh.”

I realized what I was opening myself up for. “Please, don’t fuck me again,” I murmured.

“I won’t.” he said. “But I’ve got something I’ve got to do really quick. I just wanted to see if you were going to put up a fight.”

“No fight.” I muttered.

He rolled off the edge of the bed. In a moment, he returned.

He rolled back onto the bed, at my side. After a few seconds, I smelled a familiar musty odor. I opened my eyes.

The Scrabble box was at my side.

I blinked. “What are you doing?”

He cleared his throat. “A wise man once told me that the foundation of a healthy relationship was formed by playing that game. Or, something like that.”

I grinned. “He told me that, too.”

“Open it.”