"Yes…" I murmur, lifting my hips, my fingers weaving through his hair. I sigh, moan, whimper.
He gets to work; well, it’s not a demanding process in my case. I come easily, quickly, effortlessly… and I can do it often.
"Yes, yes, mmm…" I gasp, feeling pleasure rise inside me like a soaring bird. My cock stiffens like bone before exploding deep into his throat, flooding his mouth with whiteness.
Pulse after pulse, I release waves of ecstasy, my body trembling, nearly vibrating in rapture.
But the problem is, I don’t want it to end. It’s not enough.
"Will you nurse it for a while?" I whisper.
Bay nods slightly in a small, affirming motion. I sink into the warmth, my cock cradled in heat and moisture, relaxing for a minute, only to start hungering again.
My fingers dive back into his hair, pressing lightly, guiding the rhythm: slow, lazy, almost sleepy at first. I let myself rise gradually toward another peak.
Bay’s finger slips between my thighs, finding my little hole, stroking it gently, teasing, circling, pressing just slightly.
I shudder, and this time, I come even harder, but it’s not the end.
"Please… nurse him a bit longer," my voice pleading, needy.
Bay doesn’t stop, the cycle begins. I surround myself in a pink haze, letting myself float in it.
How good… how good.
???
Muffled voices from the next room wake me.
Bay’s tiny house is divided on the lower level into three spaces: a bedroom, a larger living area that connects to a kitchen built along one wall, and a small bathroom.
I sit up, still dressed in the same clothes I wore yesterday, climb out of the bed and walk to the door, open it and find Bay in the kitchen talking to his dad.
I know right away they’re talking about me.
On the floor I notice several suitcases lined up. I stare at them, shocked.
Lake walks over to me and just pulls me into a hug, holding me tight.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart? Bay told me everything. Don’t be upset with him, I pushed him pretty hard to tell me what was going on."
Bay gives me an apologetic look, but I just shake my head to show him it’s fine.
"It’s not a secret anymore anyway, not after I learned it, after he finally let it out after all these years."
I shrug.
Lake steps toward the suitcases.
"Your dad was here early this morning, he said he understands how you feel and he wants to spare you the trouble, so he brought all of this for you."
He bites lightly at his lower lip, clearly uncomfortable.
"Oh, right," I say. "I told him I needed space, and he just threw me out of the house, great."
"I think he just doesn’t want to make the situation worse," Lake says quietly, though I can see he also thinks my dad’s behavior is strange. He didn’t try to talk again, didn’t explain himself, didn’t defend himself, and most of all didn’t offer a real apology, he just put my belongings out of the house.
"Sweetheart, you’ll have everything you need here, you don’t have to worry about anything," Lake assures me.
