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I’m stumped for words. To be honest, these issues never occurred to me.
“I’m not sure, baby,” is my useless reply. “Go to Rwanda, I guess, and be a urologist there, I guess?” Even to me, the words sound ridiculous.
But Mel nods thoughtfully.
“I have thought about that,” she says slowly. “Have you ever heard of Medecins Sans Frontieres, also known as Doctors Without Borders? They’re physicians that go to third world countries to provide their skills at a vastly reduced rate, if not free. They do all sorts of helpful things because frankly, the majority of the humanity doesn’t have access to things as simple as aspirin or band-aids.”
Again, I’m caught unawares. I’ve spent my life being a manwhore and a playboy when I’m not making my millions. So talking about global health care issues was totally new to me, and I pulled the female towards me tight.
“I’ll support you in whatever you do,” is my hoarse whisper in her ear. “I’m so proud of you honey. Doing what you do, and doing it for people who have no other options. You’re one in a million, sweetheart.”
Melissa bestowed a smile on me then, sweet and gentle.
“Thank you Mace,” she said. “I’m glad you feel the same way too because honestly, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t,” she says, taking a deep breath. “Caring what happens to other people is part of being human and I’m glad that even an alpha male like you knows how important it is,” she says with a sparkle to her eye.
I pull her close then, growling against the sensitive skin of her neck.
“Oh I care, sweetheart, I care a lot. Just ask, and I’ll give you whatever you want. You ready for it?”
Melissa giggles then, the tone of our conversation changing in a snap.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says sassily, tugging down the neckline of the v-neck t-shirt so that one huge tit pops out, almost hitting me in the face with its lusciousness. “Come on big guy,” she purrs. “You ready for a little dessert after breakfast?”
And of course, things went downhill from there. My girl and I got it on again, the curvy female taking me in her pussy and asshole, screaming as I rotated my dick between the two.
“Unnhf,” I grunted, slamming into her twat before pulling out and pushing into her bottom. “Unnnh, unnnh!”
But the brunette is filthy as hell because all she did was lean over even more, both hands reaching back to pull her butt cheeks apart, baring her all for me.
“Take me, Mace,” she panted heavily face first into the mattress. “Give it to me good.”
Of course, I did. I spewed like a madman into her bottom, the cream overflowing that anal canal before dripping down her crack into her pussy. So yeah, the sex is mind-blowing. Filthy and depraved, exactly the way I like it. But even more, Melissa’s taught me to be human. She’s taught me to see beyond my narrow world view filled with fast cars, fast women, and unspeakable luxury. She’s taught me to think about people who have far less, and their goals and motives in life. Melissa has opened my eyes to the painful, the heartbreaking, but also the incredible. The beauty of what it means to be alive, and to give back to the world from whence you came.
So yeah, I crave the brunette. Even more than that, I want to keep her permanently. Maybe my time left on this Earth is limited, but if the beautiful woman will have me, I’m ready to put a ring on her finger. I’m ready to force my last name on her, while I put a baby in her belly. Nothing could make me happier than seeing Melissa grow heavy and round with my child.
But clearly, I’m a selfish prick. Because what kind of dying man wants all that? What kind of asshole wants to leave his wife pregnant and expecting, with no husband to support her? But that’s what illness does to you. Sure, I don’t look or feel sick at all. But staring Death in the face has made me even more determined to be a father, if that makes sense. So yeah. I want to Melissa to be barefoot and pregnant as my sperm drips down her thighs. I want her to feel my virile jism in that fertile twat. In short, I want to breed her over and over again because I love her and want her to be the mother to my children.
But right now, I haven’t said any of those things. The words stick in my throat, making my heart pump hard as every nerve goes on high alert. Because we’re at the gym for crying out loud. There are people around, and this isn’t the time for declarations of love and lust. But when? I make it my mission to tell her how I feel. Soon.
