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“Are you crying?”
“Yes,” she says, and then she guides my dick inside her warm passage.
If I hadn’t come in her mouth earlier, I’d be blowing my wad right now. She feels so good, all wet and hot and enveloping, every millimeter of my cock surrounded by delicious pussy. Delicious Rochelle, all around me.
“I want you to come again,” I tell her.
“Can I touch myself?”
“Anything you want. Anything that feels good,” I say, and then I lose the ability to speak as her fingers move over that little button, occasionally grazing against my shaft. I try not to tense up. I’m already close to finishing.
She starts moaning again. “You feel so good. You’re so hard, you’re fucking me so good, Alaric—”
Shit, I am gonna lose control soon.
And then she cries out loud and her inner walls squeeze me, and I do lose it. I give her everything. Every inch. Every drop.
Every piece of my heart.
I drift to sleep with her in my arms.
When I wake later, disturbed by being in a different place, I kiss her forehead.
She wakes. “Alaric?”
“What, baby?”
“You’re nine for nine.”
And she goes back to sleep before I can ask what she means.
I wake super-early. There’s an hour before I have to get up and shower for work, and I want her again. I caress her beautiful body, feeling her skin like warm silk. I kiss down her back to the top of the crease of her butt, and then I roll her to her back as she’s waking up. I kiss and lick her pussy again, exploring all over, doing whatever I want but paying attention to the way she moves, breathes, moans. When she says yes, I do more of that.
She says a lot of yes.
It’s a fucking thrill to make her come again. I’m going to be walking on air for days.
Months.
Forever, maybe.
And when she shoves me to my back and climbs on top of me to sink her lovely wet pussy down on my shaft, I’m overwhelmed with joy. Looking at her tits bouncing, at her sweet split engulfing my dick, her beautiful face flushed and lips wet, it’s all I can do to not simply let myself go inside her until her head rolls back on her neck and she makes that long moan of deep pleasure, but once I feel her channel pulsing around me, I allow my release.
The sight of my own cream dripping out of her a moment later is deeply affecting. “I love you, Rochelle.”
She flops down beside me, then raises her head to kiss me. “I can’t believe this, but I love you, too.”
I sigh. “Why can’t you believe it? Because I was such a prick the day we met?”
She sighs too. Kisses me again. “Yeah. And because I couldn’t quite believe that you were who the Goddess sent.”
“The what now?”
“The Goddess. The Great Mother. Don’t ask me, I don’t understand it and I don’t worship the earth magic things anyway. I was so surprised when I knew it was you.”
I’m confused. I say so.
She tells me this long story about girlfriends getting together on vacation and doing some kind of love spell to call their soulmates to them. Candles, anointing oil, blessings, charms, full moon, the whole bit.
