She bit her bottom lip and the sight was almost painful. Those brown pools of hers spoke of her hesitance, her internal war. She wanted to talk. Wanted to hash out whatever the hell was going on in my head. But she also wanted to fuck.
To make her decision easier, I leaned down and pinched her nipple again, and then bent lower, running my tongue along the scar on the right side of her chest.
She gasped and her back bowed, pushing up deeper into my mouth.
“Now show me,” I growled, lifting myself to stand again, to get a better view of all of her.
She did as told and used the first and second fingers of her right hand to spread herself wide for me.
I rubbed the drop of precum that’d emerged over the tip of my cock, gritting my teeth at the sensations that coursed through my veins at the sight of Grace so open and ready for me. I went to my knees on the mattress, moving in between her legs. I inhaled sharply when my cock bumped up against her entrance. Grace’s mouth formed an “O” and I had to lean down to kiss her mouth.
Her head lifted to meet mine, and as soon as our lips touched, I pushed myself deep inside of her. I wanted to feel every inch of her muscles brushing up against and hugging my cock. She moaned into my mouth, and a shiver ran through my body, so profoundly, the entire bed shook. With my left hand I took her fingers in mine, intertwining ours, and moved her hand to the side, pushing her arm over her head.
I lifted my head, parting our lips so that I could see her more clearly, and I began hammering my hips into her. Her eyes squeezed shut, until I grunted and she opened them, allowing me to see everything she was feeling.
The awestruck look in her eyes that took place every time our bodies became one, along with her parted, kiss swollen lips, and the feel of her thighs against my hips, bouncing every time I pushed into her and pulled out, was almost too much for even me. But it was her gaze that kept me locked in. It pushed away all the heavy shit I’d been feeling up until the moment our lips touched. Whatever had happened earlier in the day didn’t matter, whatever was going to happen after this didn’t matter either. Just as long as I could keep peering down into those eyes, it was all I needed. It was more life saving than the oxygen I pulled in through my flared nostrils.
Grace’s lips trembled and parted but no words were spoken. Every time it seemed as if she went to say something, I pushed harder, pounded deeper, and pulled her legs up higher, causing her to lose whatever words were on the tip of her tongue.
I felt like I could go on like this forever, like I wanted to go on forever. But there must’ve been a miscommunication between my brain and my body because the latter began to give out. Once Grace’s pussy quivered around my thrusting shaft as a result of her third orgasm, the tingling in my toes started. The sensation moved up my legs and collided with the vibrations shooting down my spine.
The breath from my body ceased to exist, and with one final thrust and curse from my lips, I was coming.
My come spilled out of my shaft and coated Grace’s womb as if it knew that was its home. Even after my initial release, I couldn’t stop my thrusting hips, and with each thrust came another spurt of my come.
I couldn’t remember how long it took for my body to finish its release, but safe to say it was longer than I’d ever experienced before. But even as I pulled free from Grace’s body, my cock was still semi-erect. Just that quickly, it had renewed energy.
Peering down into Grace’s half-closed eyes, I knew I wasn’t done. She gasped when I flipped her body over and brought her up onto all fours. And just as quickly, I was pushing into her again and again.
It was a long while before I was finished and had wrung out at least two more orgasms from Grace. It wasn’t until she literally begged for me to let her rest, pushing me off of her with her hand, that I set her free.
I stood on wobbly legs and moved to my bathroom, retrieving a washcloth to clean her. But not even a few minutes later, once I returned to the room, did I find Grace, laying, asleep, light snores pouring from her mouth on my bed. I used the washcloth on both of us before tossing it somewhere over the bed and then gathering her still sleeping form in my arms. It didn’t take five minutes before the exhaustion of whatever had happened that day, plus the sex marathon we just engaged in, took over and I fell asleep.
****
That wasn’t the answer.
That lone thought is what jostled me out of a restless sleep hours later. I scanned the darkened room as soon as my eyes popped open. It was quiet but I could make out tiny snores to my left side.
Turning my head, I saw Grace, still sleeping, curled up on her left side, naked as the day she was born. And despite my mood and the numerous rounds we engaged in before falling asleep, when I let my eyes fall down over the rest of her body, my stomach clenched and tingling shot through my shaft, wanting her. But I refrained.
Instead, I got up and padded my way through the darkened bedroom, out to the hallway closet. Opening it, I pulled out the comforter I bought when I first purchased this condo, over two years ago. The damn thing still sat in its original packaging. Yanking it free, I made my way back into the bedroom and took care to cover Grace with the blanket, making sure not to disturb her.
The blackout curtains in my bedroom made it difficult to discern what time of the day it was. It could be pitch black outside or middle of the day, bright and sunny and I wouldn’t know. I kept this room dark for a reason.
But as I took a step back and watched Grace, in her sleep, getting comfortable and adjusting to the warmth of the blanket, another one of those damn memories shot to mind. I found myself quickly exiting the bedroom, but not before throwing on a pair of boxer briefs, to head up the hallway. The first place I went for was the cabinet over my kitchen sink. I reached for the bottle of scotch but cursed and slammed the cabinet shut when I found the bottle was empty.
Absentmindedly, I slammed my hand into the counter, but too bad for me, it was my right hand.
“Fuck!” I grunted, looking down and remembering that I had a goddamned broken knuckle. But the pain also served to bring back the memories of the previous day. I blinked and turned toward the microwave that sat a top of the stove. The clock read 11:53 a.m.
I shook my head, wondering how the hell I could’ve slept so long. I vaguely remembered the clock reading something like 2:33 a.m. when we arrived back at my place, but I couldn’t be too sure.
Finding my way to one of the stools that sat around my kitchen island, I sat in it and put my forehead into the palm of my hands, my elbows pressing against the counter. It was an awkward placement due to the cast but I didn’t give a shit. Squeezing my eyes shut, flashes of the day and night before came back to me. I remembered coming home briefly, reaching for the bottle of scotch, and then heading out to a bar to drink when I finished that.
My mood was dark. Darker than usual. It was the type of mood that pushed me to the Underground for a fight. I remembered getting into the ring and fighting some guy I’d never seen before. He was a shit talker.
“The only bitch around here is the one who birthed you.”
