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I feast on her pussy once again as I pet myself, coating my shaft with her honey. She allows herself to grind down against my face. I know she’s being careful. I don’t mind being suffocated a little, but it may be too soon for all that.
The months of being alone on this island no longer seem like such a punishment.
I fist my cock as I spear my tongue inside her cunt with every roll of her hips. My Kala has found her rhythm, and I am dying to find her sweetest spot, deep inside, to make her explode all over my tongue.
Honestly, I do not care if I drink nothing else but her.
Suddenly, her rhythm goes irregular, and I realize she’s reaching backward.
And now she has control of my cock and my mouth: her firm hand laying waste to my shaft and her sweat-damp thighs covering my ears.
If I die like this, I die.
Unexpectedly, she moves off of me. I’m about to protest until I realize what Kala is doing. I watch her ass as she crawls down the bed to take my cock in her mouth.
“Holy fuck, Princess…” And then it’s only monosyllabic noises from me following that.
Kala is spread out for the taking, her mouth and tongue wetting the head of my cock—and her ass in my face.
I’m so fucking happy I laugh. “I didn’t know you had this in you,” I say.
She answers with a moan on my dick, taking me in deeper and swirling her tongue around the tip, licking off my precum.
I answer this by taking two handfuls of her luscious cheeks, spreading her wide and owning her cunt once again with my mouth. Kala doesn’t taste like the perfect, dignified lady. Her juice is decadent, her body luscious, and her taste for pleasure is insatiable.
Now that she is awakened, my wife is a greedy devil in the sheets.
There is no more crash of the ocean outside our suite. There is only us and the night, and the sounds of sweat-soaked flesh against flesh, mouths taking and giving. Gasping, gagging, giggling, and moaning.
When I explode into her mouth, Kala swallows it down, milking me utterly dry as I surge into her in furious, uncontrollable bursts. The more she moans on my dick, the harder I come.
Her next release comes quickly on the heels of mine, with my tongue vanquishing her elusive inner spot.
Kala releases her grip on me and screams as her G-spot orgasm crashes over her. She cries out words in our native tongue, old incantations that no one uses anymore.
My wife, she completely owns me, body and soul.
I am overwhelmed with the need to see her, touch her, and hold her to me.
I do just that, pulling her into my side and wrapping her up, our still-heaving chests pressed together.
“Etienne,” she whimpers, twitching and trembling still.
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I answer, “I’ve got you, darling.”
She kisses my mouth, and I’m lost to her sweet lips. Yes, kissing will do for now. Kissing will keep me from expressing the things my heart is bursting to say.
I’m done for. I’m absolutely consumed with my wife. I set out to ruin her for any other man, but I’ve gone and wrecked myself.
24
Kala
On any other day, I would bound from the bed at the first sign of sunrise and hit the ground running. Or, in my present situation, the beach.
But I lost a bet, and now I’m figuratively chained to the bed. Darn.
Running would require legs that work, though.
