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Biting her lower lip, Austen wears a sad expression. “I’m sorry.”
I study her while she pouts. We play this game of chicken until my dick joins the party and ruins my fake out. Austen stops pouting and kisses me.
“You’re so much better than I hoped.”
“Were your hopes too low?”
“No, they were sky-high,” she replies with her lips against mine. “You’re just fucking spectacular, Walla Walla.”
I quickly meet her heat with my own. She slides her fingers in my hair while I enjoy her gorgeous, upturned tits and pale pink nipples.
A groaning Austen lifts her hips to allow my cock entrance to her overheated pussy. We fuck slowly, taking our time and enjoying the growing familiarity of our bodies moving together. Austen takes charge, learning how to make us both feel good. I’ve realized my woman’s secretly confident if she can just shove her fearful side out of the way.
Soon, Austen’s tight pussy sucks harder at my cock, and her hips roll faster against mine. Her body drives me crazy. She winds me up and takes me over the edge with so little effort.
Once again, her orgasm breaks my resolve. The room is filled with our groans of pleasure. I love how Austen doesn’t silence herself. She knows fucking should feel good and suffers no shame over what riding my dick does to her.
“How are you feeling?” I ask, resting her back on the bed and cuddling up next to her sweaty body.
“Today was so exhausting,” she says, sounding suddenly fragile. “My heart hurts after seeing my dad. I felt so much relief over making peace with him. But I was very aware of how he’ll be gone soon. The grief is already suffocating me. Then, when I feel like it’s too much, I focus on you, and the world brightens.”
I smile at how Austen views me. To her, I’m a great man making the world a better place. Plenty of people like me. Some people love me. No one cherishes me like Austen, though.
Her sad expression fades as my thumb circles her belly button. Austen soon watches me with a relaxed gaze. I feel her stepping away from today’s emotions and focusing on the future.
“If we have a girl, I want to name her Emma after my favorite book growing up,” Austen says and then gives me a sheepish smile. “I’d like her middle name to be Poe after Edgar Allen. That way, she can have a fun name around the house, but she can also go by a more common name if she turns out to be dull.”
“What if we have a boy?”
“You can name him.”
Chuckling at the thought, I murmur, “That seems like a recipe for disaster.”
“I’m sure you’ll choose a great name for our little boy.”
I rest on my back and consider how she chose our daughter’s name. “What about Folsom?”
Austen stares stunned at me for a moment before breaking into a smile. “He’d have a song with his name like you do.”
Scooting closer, I reward her with a kiss. I might not like country music, but there’s no denying Johnny Cash was cool.
“That could be his middle name,” I suggest.
“What would you pick for his first?”
“I didn’t read books when I was young unless it was assigned.”
“But?”
“I loved the Ninja Turtles comic books. Ruin had them when we were kids, and he’d bring them to school for me. At home, I couldn’t read them, but I’d run around the yard pretending to be a Ninja Turtle.”
Austen offers me a lovestruck smile. “Do any of them have good names?”
“I liked Raphael because he was a rebel.”
“Well, can we name our son Raphael Folsom?”
Chuckling, I ask, “Would you really name our baby after a Ninja Turtle?”
