He pumps again. Then again. Each time, his face tightens up and he lets out another breathless exclamation.
He’s really liking it. That makes me feel almost as good as when he was using his hand to please me.
“Keep going, Mason,” I tell him, huffing slightly every time he pushes in because it’s not exactly comfortable. “It’s your turn. Don’t hold back.”
I don’t know if it’s my words or because he’s so far gone toward his own pleasure, but he thrusts faster and harder, his whole body jerking with the naked need in his motion.
It hurts a little as his rhythmic grunts turn into louder, rougher sounds. He’s not saying words now, but I know he’s really into it. I know he’s really loving how he’s feeling right now. I know he needs this badly.
And I want to give it to him even if it’s not easy. I try not to clench up around the penetration of his shaft, keeping my body as soft as it was before so he can get what he needs from it.
It doesn’t actually last very long. Not nearly as long as it took for me to get there when his fingers were inside me. His thrusts turn into fast, hard ruts that end with a loudexclamation of satisfaction as his face transforms with a wash of deep pleasure.
He moans long and deep as he jerks a few last times, his hips rolling as his shaft spurts out something into my pussy. Then he collapses on top of me like his energy is wiped out.
I wasn’t expecting that, but I do okay. He’s heavy, and I’m really sore between my legs now, but he’s feeling so good. His body gets softer and softer like he’s finally sated.
I want him to feel that way. He made me feel that way too. It’s his turn, and I’m doing okay. I stroke his back and his rumpled hair for several minutes.
His penis has gotten soft inside me. There’s a lot of fluid there, and it’s leaking out onto my thighs and on the sheet.
We made a real mess. There’s a big wet spot on the clean sheets. I wasn’t expecting that either.
It takes him a long time before he finally lifts his weight from me and peers down at my face. “You okay?”
“I’m good,” I tell him with a sigh. I don’t actually feel good right now, but I’m not about to admit it. He’d feel bad, and I don’t want that. This is what we’re supposed to do, and I can do it just like everyone else. “Did I do okay?”
“Okay? You were perfect. That was… Not sure I’ve ever felt so good in my life.” He’s almost smiling as he looks down at me.
So, despite the aches and discomfort and wetness, I’mhappy after all. Because if it’s his job to keep me safe, then it’s my job to make him feel this good.
And I’m going to keep doing it.
He finally gets up to go to the bathroom, and then I do too, cleaning myself up and hoping the pang of pain between my legs won’t last for long. I bring a towel back to the bed, trying to clean up the wetness.
There’s blood there as well as the other fluids, but Mason tells me that’s normal for the first time.
I don’t like the sight of it. I cover the spot with a clean towel and then tell Mason good night before I go to my own room.
The first part of sex was really good. The second part wasn’t bad. It’s going to be fine. I can do it.
I’m getting so much more out of this marriage that I can put up with being uncomfortable before bedtime each night so Mason gets what he needs.
8
I oversleep the following morning.
Not that I have a set rising time. As long as I have breakfast ready when Mason is done with the morning chores, I can get up whenever I choose. He’s never said a word about expectations for me in that regard—except to continually remind me he doesn’t need my help with chores.
But it feels like it’s late anyway when I open my eyes. I slept so soundly I can’t even remember waking up during the night to reposition or listen for sounds in the dark, and that almost never happens. So as soon as I orient myself, I scramble out of bed and into the bathroom, throwing on my clothes and getting ready as fast as possible.
Mason is already halfway through the milking when I arrive breathless at the barn.
“Morning,” he says, glancing over at me.
“I didn’t mean to oversleep.”
He frowns. “You didn’t oversleep. You don’t have to get up as early as me.”
