Like now.
I’m really close.
Mason is really into it too. He’s got most of my ass in his big hands, pulling my cheeks apart so he can really thrust good. He’s been grunting the way he does when he’sworking up toward a finish, but he hasn’t fallen out of rhythm yet.
My hair is hanging all over my face, and my breasts are swinging with the force of his rutting. And I’m throbbing all over. My pussy. My pulse points. My eyes and ears and chest.
Every part of me is intensely sensitized. Needy.
Desperate.
I’ve been making a lot of helpless whimpers each time he pushes into me, but I’m so close now I start gasping, “Mason. Mason. I need… I need…”
“I know. I know. I’m gonna hold out. You’re gonna get here. You’re my little honey cake, and you’re gonna feel so good.”
Reassured but still deeply greedy, I bump my butt back against his thrusts, speeding up the rhythm until he lets out a long groan and adds a roll of his hips to each grunt.
It’s enough.
I cry out loudly as the spasms of pleasure break. Overwhelm me. He lets out a loud sound—close to a bellow—as he jerks and shakes against my ass until he comes too in several hard spurts.
I really like the feel of that now. Like he’s fully let go. Giving me everything as he reaches the end.
I want to give him everything too.
When we’ve worked through the last of the shudders of pleasure, we fall down together on the bed. He pulls meback against his front, spooning me and nuzzling my hair as his gasps ruffle my hair.
His body is blazing hot, but so is mine. I snuggle back against him, smiling because for some reason this feels just as good—just as needed—as the sex.
It’s still dark outside, so there’s no hurry in getting up. We lie together in sated silence that lasts so long I eventually glance over my shoulder to see if he’s fallen asleep.
He hasn’t. He smiles at me, sweet and groggy.
“Why didn’t I know life could be like this before?” I ask, turning over on my other side to face him, still caught in the warm daze.
“Cause of what we talked about before. We were cut off from it on purpose. But not for good.”
“No. Not for good.” I pause before asking, “Do you think I’ll get pregnant one day?”
His smile turns into a concerned searching. “Maybe. Why? You disappointed that we haven’t yet?”
“No. I mean, I don’t know. We’ve been having sex a lot for months now. Maybe something is wrong with me.”
“It hasn’t been that long. Lots of folks go a year or more before getting pregnant.”
“That’s true. I was just thinking.” I pause. Then, because he feels soft right now, I risk another question. “Will you be disappointed in me if I can’t?”
“Why would I blame you? Could be me, you know.”
I hadn’t actually thought of that, but it’s true. I never learned any human biology or anatomy in my very basicschooling or from my parents, but I’ve learned a lot about animals from Mason in the past months.
Not every cow can get pregnant and be used for milk. That’s a fact.
But not every bull can be used for breeding either.
“I know. But you haven’t really answered the question. Will you be disappointed?”
He hesitates a long time without replying. So long I wonder if he’s going to answer the question at all. Then, “Kids would be good. I’d really like that. But life is better for me now than it’s ever been before. I think life will stay good, even without kids.”
