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He moaned and thrust harder, faster as he rose to another explosive orgasm. The sensation of his throbbing cock slamming into me, ready to come, only brought me higher, and I felt like I tumbled into near madness as my vision blurred and my toes curled. Suddenly he slammed hard into me and froze as he exploded deep inside me. We both shook and bucked with the intensity of his release and my pussy matched him with squeezing motions, eagerly taking his essence into me. His fingers, clenched tight into the soft skin of my ass, slowly released, and he slid them up to my breasts, cupping them and holding them tight as he continued to come, moans rolling out of him with each clench of his body.
My body milked him empty, and when he pulled out of me, he crawled into the bed, under the sheets, and held his arms out for me. I joined him under the covers and sighed happily. The fire slowly fell until it was low and merely embers. We only pulled the sheet over us as our bodies were still hot and the room was warm.
Falling asleep, delightfully exhausted, in his arms was the greatest possible way to end the day. It took only moments of his smelling his chest and listening to his heart as it slowly returned to a normal speed before I drifted off into a dead sleep, a smile stretched across my face. I slept a dreamless, peaceful sleep and woke with the sun high in the sky and Hawk curled around me. I lay there for quite some time, wondering how my life had turned out so well.
Hawk shifted behind me and raised his head. He sniffed the air and then looked down at me. I cocked an eyebrow and turned so I lay on my back, almost under him.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Good morning,” he said, somewhat distractedly. “I smell bacon.”
“Is that what it takes to get you out of bed?” I laughed. “Bacon smell?”
“Well, all it takes to get me in it is for you to be there, so I guess I’m just a simple man.”
“You are, and I love it,” I said.
I closed my eyes and tried to inhale, seeing if I could catch the whiff of bacon on the air like he could. I gave up after a few seconds and shook my head. I couldn’t smell bacon, but I could smell coffee. Coffee was enough to get me out of bed.
“Ready for breakfast?” he asked.
“What time is it?”
He looked at his phone on the bedside table before tossing it back and resuming his position over and beside me.
“Ten,” he said. “Right between the breakfast and brunch times.”
“Maybe they will have a little bit of both,” I said.
“Maybe,” he said. “Come on, let’s go find out.”
The dining room was flush with food, but only one other guest was there eating, an older gentleman who seemed to be late for something the way he was shoveling food into his mouth. The table was covered with both breakfast food and lunch sandwiches, allowing us to stock up on a little bit of everything and sneak it all back to our room.
Sitting on the bed, a display of food in front of us that looked like a very hungry and eclectic king’s bounty, we turned on the skillfully hidden on the wall television and put on a show to watch as we ate. I didn’t want to fill up too much since part of the fun of visiting New Orleans was the food, but it was so delicious I couldn’t help myself. Eventually, we had both stuffed so much food in that we ended up lying down and dozing for an hour or so before getting back up and getting ready to go.
As we stepped out of the bed-and-breakfast, a few blocks from some of the major touristy areas of town, I felt like the universe had suddenly given me everything I had been waiting for. It was like it held back so much just so it could give it all to me at once, and while those years of turmoil and loneliness were hard, knowing where it would lead, I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Hawk seemed to feel the same way, and we tore through the town like teenagers. We crushed together years of the dating we should have had into a few days and saw only a small portion of what the area had for us to see. We both agreed that it wouldn’t be our only trip there and that staying at Bill and Steve’s bordello room bed-and-breakfast was a key part of any future trip.
Over the course of those days, both Hawk and I would occasionally feel guilty or homesick for little Rose. When that would happen, we would call Malia with a video call, and she wouldn’t even bother answering with her own face. The first thing we saw when she answered would be the crib with Rose sleeping in it or Rose’s face as she played with one of them.
