Page 78 of About the Green

The silken slide of her around my dick, has my balls drawing up and I don’t know how much longer I can keep giving her my full length when I want to fill her where she most ached for fulfillment.

“Tell me what a doll needs.”

She blinks, barely able to focus on me again as she constricts me more and more.

“Does a doll need to come?”

“Ah,” she cries, tears still running down her chin. “You’re— You feel so good. Damn.”

I kiss the moisture away. Praising her for gripping me so tight, for staying so full.

My spine is tingling with the need to come, but I’m patient as her cries grow silent.

“Tell me, doll. You comin’? Come all over this dick, baby,” I encourage and she does.

She trembles, cum dripping and sliding down my thighs to my pants.

I’m right there behind her, desperate to give her every ounce of this nut until I can’t anymore.

My stroke gets uneven and jerky as I find my own release. My vision whites out as each spurt of me gets driven into her deeper and deeper.

For a moment, I just holding her close to me. Our hearts thrumming in tandem with each other as we catch out breath.

“Doll?”

“Hmm,” she says, sleepy and satiated.

“How long is it gonna take you pack?”

“What,” she's now slightly more awake than before. “Pack for what?”

I brush some of her hair from her face as I lie her on the bed to remove her restraints. “My question earlier.” Her eyes fully open now, brows pinched as she tries to remember what I’m talking about. “My question that you answered ‘no’ to was: Are you staying in Atlanta when I go back to Louisiana?”

Epilogue

Don’t call me a liar.

I deserve at least a little bit of leeway here.

Look, I can’t reason that anyone would make the same decisions as me because… well, logic is a bit of a toss up in this game of life. I’ve played it too many times and somehow I still have more chances at it.

Maybe it was destiny that lead me here, since the two of us have been somewhat in agreement recently.

But I’m sitting in the passenger seat of a man who had spent months trying to get me offed by my own family to now have him doting on me like the fragile little bomb I am.

C’mon, I think I hit double sevens!

At least, I think that’s the lucky roll.

Point is, I belong to someone. This someone is no longer trying to have me offed by my own family but instead has made a way for me to continue saving girls from perverted men at a scale I won’t fully comprehend until I get my bearings in Louisiana again.

Small town, three-restaurant having, Clayton Terrace, Louisiana.

Vert’s hand finds mine in my lap, before I look up to meet his eyes.

I’m nervous to meet her because I know how important she is to Vert. Though I've never been in a position to where I've ever thought that I would be meeting someone who is important to someone—that it would ever be important to me, I'm hoping that it goes well.

I tried to dress as appropriately as I could manage with my own wardrobe, but honestly I don't really know what that means anymore. There's no point in me being someone other than who I am. Regardless, it hasn't been very long that I've been talking to a therapist, but even still I know that much is true. The pink jumpsuit and matching furry boots are a staple in my wardrobe.