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Her laughter is weak. “Like I’ve come too many times and also not at all.”
I huff a breath into her hair. I hate what this is doing to her. There’s a lot to hate about the biological specialties of my species. Not least is a feature which should be fun, but seems always to backfire. At least for me.
I hold my fingers against her clit, reluctant to do anything that might set her off again. Her body needs rest. She will need water, too, and food.
Eventually, I stir, thinking to see to her needs.
Tamsin whimpers. “Stay.”
“You need to stay hydrated,” I scold.
She scoffs. “I need to come again.”
“You need to eat. This could last a while.”
She whines. “I need your cocks.” Her hand lifts to the back of my neck and I freeze, ready to grab her wrist and stop her from dislodging my glasses again.
“Need to see your eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. But I never get to see yours.”
I shake my head sadly. “You don’t want that. It would be the last thing you ever see.”
She goes quiet. When her breathing lengthens, I realize she’s drifted to sleep.
Very carefully, I extract myself from beneath her and go to fetch her food and water. No doubt she’ll wake soon, possibly as needy as she was before.
To my shame, my cocks twitch at the thought.
TWELVE
Tamsin
I wake with a scratchy throat and a dry mouth. My head aches.
“Here, sit up. Drink this.”
A strong hand at my back helps me sit while I’m still blinking open eyelids that feel glued shut. My pussy clenches and my belly tightens, and I remember.
The ache is nowhere near as bad as it was, but just the feel of Erserro’s hand on my back has my cunt slick and my thighs squeezing together.
Before I can complain, he presses a glass to my lips and I take a sip of cool water.
“Are you hungry? Can you eat?”
My stomach rumbles. But I’m distracted by the sight of his lips. His forked tongue darts out to wet them and all I can think of is kissing him.
“Eat,” he insists. He holds a spoon of yogurt to my mouth until I open for him. I have to admit the cool, sweet yogurt feels good. I swallow a few bites. Then a drop escapes my lips. He brushes it away with his thumb and my nipples tighten painfully. A needy sound tears from me before I can stop it.
Erserro sighs and puts aside the bowl. “Do you need to come, flower?”
I nod. After hours of this, I’m numb to any feeling about it other than gratitude for how diligently he’s cared for me. Erserro has patiently fed me and insisted I drink. He’s massaged mybreasts, my clit, and licked my sore, tired pussy when cocks and fingers became too much.
I’m still sore, but my clit throbs with the need for release, even now.
Erserro slides onto the bed and gathers me in his arms. Very gently, he pushes apart my legs and slips a hand over my mound.
I moan from pain and desire when his fingers graze the sensitive flesh.
“Too much?”
