“How?” he says, his brow furrowing.
“When you feel your spend coming you must remove yourself from me.”
“And where do I spend then?”
“Anywhere. On me. On the coverlet. Anywhere that’s not inside.”
I should not indulge this absurd concern of his. Especially since it runs counter to my own intentions. But I have little faith in his ability to withdraw with accuracy. Especially not when I am in control. And perhaps this consideration to his concerns now will become useful if he becomes bothersome later. After I have the child. A pretext through which I can assert that the babe is not his own.
He shifts nervously, his cock nevertheless looking almost comical in its hardness.
“I’m not certain if I will be successful. I am not always certain when I will spend.”
A shiver goes through me at his words.
“You can only do your best.”
“But what if I fail? What of the consequences?”
“As I’ve said, you needn’t worry about consequences. But if you don’t want to fail, then don’t.”
He nods slowly.
I lie down on him then, so that we are bare together, skin against skin. I kiss him, letting my tongue run over his lips until it makes contact with his.
When he tries to pull me closer, I push his hands away.
“You are not the one in control. Get on top of me,” I say, pulling him so that our positions are reversed.
Once more he obeys and is now poised over me.
“Are you ready?” I say.
“Yes. Please.”
I pull him closer and open my legs for him, guiding his engorged cock inside. I gasp a little as he slides into me. He is large—so large that it is almost uncomfortable at first.
“I am sorry,” he murmurs. “I know I am—too?—”
“No, I cannot bear apologies,” I say, as my walls ease around him and I feel the beginnings of pleasure.
He withdraws from me slightly and moans. Then he pumps into me again. At the delicious slide of him, I bite my lip.
“Good. That’s very good. Are you in control of your spend?”
“Yes. I think so,” he murmurs. “Your—I don’t know what to call it.”
“There are many names. Cunt. Pussy. Quim. Countless others far more ridiculous.”
“Your pussy is heaven. Do you know that?”
“I have never had a complaint.”
He huffs, pumping in and out of me with slightly more speed. The pleasure begins to build.
“I don’t like to think of them—the other men you have been with.”
“I will not apologize for having had lovers.”
