I curl my fingers into a fist and slowly roll my knuckles around her entrance. I hum with approval when I find her receptive to all four knuckles, and I’m both delighted and impressed when a swivel of my hand gains me entry for my entire fist. “Mmm. Yes, Pet.” I rub my aching cock against the side of her leg as I fuck her slowly with my fist, pushing against any resistance I encounter and marveling at how quickly her body adapts.
She gains confidence and begins to buck at the intrusion, until I’m wrist-deep in her with every thrust.Fuck.
I bury my face in her curls, inhaling deeply to savor her gorgeous scent before I seek out her swollen little clit and suckit into my mouth. I tease it with tiny flick of my tongue and then I fuck her with my fist and lay the pressure on her clit so thick, she starts bucking and squirting into my mouth. I drink down her cum, and force her clenching pussy to stretch some more. She writhes and moans and shudders until her desperate spasms fade to leave her in a whimpering, quivering heap.
I gently extract my hand and wrap her in the soft blanket before I take a moment to relieve the ache in my sac. I fill two of her empty cum jars, and offer her my dripping cock to lick, since she seems to enjoy my flavor so much. She grins and opens wide. I stroke my cock over her mouth and am not surprised by the urge to spurt again. I aim for her tongue, and get most of the ejaculate in her mouth. She swallows it down with apparent satisfaction, and I glean from her thoughts that she loves it fresh and warm from the source.
“Noted,” I mumble, smearing the few spilled drops of it over her lips. “I look forward to watching you take my initial load. I’d love to see you handle the speed and force of it,” I admit with a smile. “Or maybe the second load will be best.” I flash her an image of her dripping from both ends, and she utters a delicious moan as she cinches her thighs together.
“Another day,” I promise, because she’s going to be ready for my cock in no time, and it’s going to be so much fun working her into ripeness.
12
DODIE
I’ve never slept so soundly as I do next to Hordan.
Living on my own has been the safest, most peaceful time of my life, but I’m beginning to think I’ve never known what it is to relax. To feel wholly safe and at peace. To be able to simply…be.
He wakes early and even though I rouse from the movement, he takes care to extract himself smoothly from my furs, so as not to disturb me more. He strokes my hair and bids me to continue my rest by sending a wash of relaxing energy over me before he begins his preparation to leave. There’s a war out there he’s in a hurry to end — for me.
Last night, as I lay in his arms, he shared his story with me through energy and visions. He showed me the dark, lonely place full of shadows that he and his fellow monsters inhabited. How legend had it, that monster-kind had been banished there millennia ago, due to their poor choices, and that they’d been made to learn the error of their ways ever since. And for those who had done the work to evolve, the lessons had eventually paid off, because the universe had granted an opportunity for his generation of monsters to redeem themselves. It was an offer of hope for a new and different way of life, if they were willing tofight for what was right — if they could protect the vulnerable instead of taking advantage of them, as their ancestors had.
He expressed that many monsters had declined, but that he’d felt a great pull to use his gifts to assist this rebalancing of the realms. With a sense of detachment, he showed me how at first, his role has simply felt like any other job to him… until he met me. The moment he learned of my existence, clarity had hit him, and ending this war became his soul mission. Or perhapssolemission. He looked deep in to my eyes and flooded me with his absolute certainty, that made me feel it with every cell of my body the he was meant to be here for me. That I am his highest priority. That his life is to be dedicated to creating a world of safety for me to exist in, because the happier I am, the happier he will be, and that would make our life together proof that miracles exist.
I had hung on his every strange word, facial expression, gesture, vibe, and mental imagery he gave me, and every facet of his story had resonated deep within my bones. Even now, I feel the truth of it surrounding us, and I trust. Itrust. That in itself is a miracle, and I am so filled with gratitude I don’t know how to express it best.
While he’s pulling on his trousers, I slip from the furs and move to my hearth space to blow life back into the dying embers. “What would you like for breakfast?” I ask, checking my meager stores. I don’t have a lot to share, but he can have it all if it’ll help him win this war faster so he can stay with me always.
I poke around for something substantial enough to give a monster his size enough energy to fight battles, but my findings are pretty disappointing. He comes to stand next to me with a frown. He strokes my chin and sends a wave of optimism over me, before showing me cupboards overloaded with every kind of food I could wish for, including a lot of blue berries and jars of his cum. He grins, pats my belly, presses a hand to his chest,and then strokes my chin again as if to assure me that my days of poverty are over. That he will provide me with all I could ever want.
A little taken aback, I place my hand on his chest and bow my head in thanks for such an offer, before tapping my chest and rubbinghisbelly. “I’m trying to feedyou,” I say, sending him the mental inventory to see which thing his energy will respond most favorably to.
He shrugs and shakes his head to everything I have.
I stare at him a moment, and then picture him getting out of his monster bed in the morning and then getting some food out of his own kitchen cupboards. “What do monsters usually eat?”
Hordan wrinkles his nose and shows me a bowl of lumpy, beige slop.
“Gruel?” I reach for my nearly empty ceramic jar of oats and barley and open it to show him the few husks remaining.
He confirms with a nod, makes a face, and guides my hand to return it to my shelf.
“But… if you don’t like it, then why eat it?”
An image of his kitchen cupboard appears in my mind. It’s full of row upon row of boxes with pictures on them of bowls of lumpy slop. All gruel. Nothing else.
“Well, I have some other things, so I don’t have to make gruel.” I put the jar away and consider our options. “I can make you something else, and I’ll make it delicious, so it’ll make you happy, because that’s what I want for you.” I beam at him, excited that I’ve just been presented with the perfect opportunity to express my gratitude to him. I pat my belly, draw the shape of my smile, and then point at him. “What do youliketo eat?”
He walks in close behind me and runs the backs of his fingers down the centerline of my body while he projects an image of him happily slurping at a river of juices flowing from between my legs.
I give him a playful swat. “No. Seriously.” I broadcast a ginormous table full of every kind of thing I can imagine and then I imagine nudging him forward to choose what looks best to him. “If you could have absolutely anything, what would be your favorite thing to eat in the whole world? I want to make it for you. Or try to, if I can find similar ingredients.”
Hordan kisses the top of my head, and then proceeds to sow little kisses down my neck. He strokes my breast and shares a moment from one of our little fantasy sessions, where he’s gulping milk from my breasts as if ravenous for it.
“Mmm.” I lean into his big, strong body and let myself feel the energy of that a moment. “I like that fantasy too. But what do you want me to make you for breakfast?”
He flashes my milk-dripping breasts into my mind again, and I roll my eyes. “Hordan, I’mserious. I want to be able to make you your favorite meal, so I can make you happy.”
