“No, not at all!” I pant. The very opposite, I nearly say. Please, please give me more.
My body stretches. It opens as he slides in. His hot, hard cock is invading my body. Piercing it, filling it. Heat and delight. Pressure and pleasure. My toes are curling, my eyes are rolling back.
Oh gods, that feels good, and fucking hell, Monty ishung.I’m being truly impaled here. I never thought I was a size queen before, but this is amazing.
He slides all the way in. A filthy, carnal sound pours out of me. A deep, manly groan reverberates from him. My body shudders with it.
He makes another noise. One of absolute awe, joy and bliss.
Then his instincts kick in. I feel the moment it happens. Something in the air changes. It turns feral. Primal. Intense.
His hands tighten on my hips. He pulls out a little way and glides back in. I cry out. Then all I am aware of, is thrusting and rocking and the slap of skin against skin. It is everything I need and far, far more.
My orgasm unleashes. It tears through me. My magic seizes the opportunity to soar free. My muscles seize with ecstasy. My mind burns with golden euphoria.
Monty grunts. He shudders. Hot wet gushes pump deep inside me. He came, seconds after me.
Then slowly, ever so slowly, reality begins to reform. I’m panting. He is panting. I’ve fully collapsed onto the table. He is on top of me. His softening cock is still in my ass.
“That was incredible!” he breathes in a tone of pure awe.
There is no fighting my chuckle. “Sex can be like that.”
“No Pink, I’m quite sure it is you who is incredible.”
Oh lord. Who is this man? He is unbelievable. His words have made me squirm and have caused a strange fluttering sensation in my tummy.
I think it might be hope. I think that just maybe, possibly, everything is going to be okay.
Chapter three
Monty
Pink’s magic is swirling in my soul, thrumming through my veins. I’m tingling with it. I feel as if I could walk on clouds.
It is early morning, the day after I had the pleasure of emptying him. My consciousness should be moving on. But my awareness of him has not faded. Not one little bit.
I’m lying in my tiny bed, but this may as well be paradise. All I can think about is Pink. His sad, sad eyes. His sweet, tentative smile. His gorgeous scent. And the feel of his body climaxing around me.
Oh goddess help me. I need to stop thinking about it. I’m like a man obsessed. I take back every condescending thought I ever had about people’s fixation with sex. It really is quite marvelous.
Though, I suspect it is not merely the act itself that has left me on cloud nine. It is Pink. He truly is extraordinarily lovely. I can literally feel it in my bones. Magic is a porous thing. It absorbs the attributes, flavors and notes of everything around it.
This magic that is flowing in my veins, was recently inside Pink. It is imbued withhim.Flavored by his soul. Fragrancedby his true being. I can all but taste the truth of him. Pink is a shining light. A kind and gentle being.
I wish I could undo everything he has been through. Nobody deserves the suffering he has endured, but especially not him. It is unfair. It grates against my innate sense of justice. But the past cannot be rewritten. What is done, is done. No matter that it is an absolute tragedy.
Who knows, perhaps in another life, Pink and I are married. Our parents could have come to an accord. He could have been given to me on his eighteenth birthday, and I could have been blessed with the honor of keeping him safe and protecting his innocence.
Or maybe, in an adjoining reality, the Pink I met yesterday might be interested in dating. Courting him would make me the proudest man alive.
I sigh heavily. In this life, and this reality, none of that is meant to be. It is more than understandable that Pink has had enough of men. Our interactions are going to be transactional. Nothing more. It is precisely what I agreed to. More importantly, it is what Pink wants. It is what he needs. He recently escaped from sexual slavery. He requires a life as free from complications as possible.
The terms of our arrangement are that I do not intrude on his life. And I am nothing, if not a man of my word.
So, I need to cast all thoughts of Pink from my mind, get out of bed and go on my morning run. It always clears my head, and oh boy, do I need that now more than ever.
I climb out of bed and throw on my running gear. A few minutes later and I’m in the fresh air. It is not long past dawn and summer is slowly fading, but it is already warm.
