I free his cock, kissing him all the while. He feels hot and needy against my hand, already surging and approaching his largest size.
“I want to ride you,” I say, beginning to push up. But his hands lock around my upper arms.
“Annabelle, wait.”
“And why should I do that?”
“I am not sure—I am—well?—”
He is fairly spluttering. Which is very perplexing. His cock is still hard between us. I know that he wants me.
“Would you prefer another position?”
“Er, yes, I mean—no.”
“Alfred,” I say, growing annoyed. “What is the problem?”
“Iwantyoutosuckmycock.”
I laugh. It isn’t what I imagined we would do in this car, but I am amused and strangely flattered by his request.
I slink to my knees and take him in my mouth.
Ifthisis what he wants, I will give it to him.
I begin to suck him slowly, so slowly that he has nothing to do but savor the sensations.
His hand comes to my hair and grips the side of my head. I suck and suck at a slow, soft tantalizing pace, ignoring how swollen and bothered he becomes, refusing to match his intensity with intensity.
“Annabelle,” he moans. “Fuck. I need more.”
But I won’t give it to him.
Instead, I keep up my slow, soft assault until he is writhing beneath me.
When his arse is nearly off the seat cushion, I press him into the back of my throat.
He moans, this time completely incoherent. Hot seed fills my mouth as he groans and bucks. I swallow it all greedily, happy that I am able to give him what he wants.
When he finishes, he joins me on the floor.
Outside the train car, we are in the country.
Fields of wheat trundle by. It is like being in a drawing room centered in a field.
He begins to lift up my skirts.
“You don’t have to.”
“You know I want to,” he says. “Making you come with my mouth is my favorite thing on this earth, Annabelle.”
Soon, his mouth is upon me. He returns what I gave him, going slow, making me last until I absolutely can’t anymore.
I watch the scenery slide by as the pleasure builds and builds and builds. Until I snake my fingers into his hair and gasp out his name.
His tongue in my pussy, the rumble of the train, the certainty that he loves me, and maybe, just maybe, his child beginning to grow in my belly—for the rest of my life, I will know that, in this moment, I was happy.
I am happy with him.
