The Girl Who Cries Colors

I pick up his hand and slowly lift it. His eyes snap to mine in the mirror as I deliberately put his hand back around my throat. He needs to be reminded that I trust him. He needs to be shown that I know he’d never hurt me. Hopefully, if I remind him enough, he’ll eventually trust himself again.

His hand is tense and still for a moment, but when I reach back behind me and slowly begin to stroke his length, he finally relaxes. His hand at my throat cradles me gently, his thumb rubbing up and down my sensitive skin as I work him in my hand. He’s so big my fingers don’t touch.

Okot lines up behind me and traces his hand over the curve of my butt before moving my hair off my back and leaning in to the crook of my neck. He breathes in slowly, like he’s drinking in my scent, and I feel his already huge erection grow even bigger. I drop my hand from him as he grinds against me, and when he flicks his tongue out to taste the skin of my neck, I’m so turned on that I have to take matters into my own hands. I let my hand drop between my thighs and start playing with myself, and Okot groans at the sight.

“Please,” I tell him, my voice husky.

But instead of entering me, Okot drops to his knees, grips my thighs, and starts eating me out from behind.

“OhmygodsIwasnotexpectingthat.”

Okot is big everywhere. Even his tongue is big. So when he lays it flat and licks my slit, I nearly jump ten feet in the air, and probably would have if he wasn’t holding me so securely. His thick, wet tongue pushes into me, and my lamassu freaking worships me with it; licking, sipping, and just generally giving me the best tongue-fuck I’ve ever had. And I have four mates who like to take a lot of trips down south, so that’s saying a lot.

I clench my eyes tight when I come, his name falling from my lips and bouncing off the walls. With my pussy still rippling with the orgasm, Okot stands and starts pushing into me, the huge head of his cock slowly breaching me.

So careful not to hurt me, he goes agonizingly slow, pushing in inch by inch. My body compensates for his girth and I breathe in, forcing myself to relax until he pushes all the way in.

When I feel the front of his thighs touch me, I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh gods, I did it. It’s all the way in,” I say victoriously in a garbled tone.

Okot laughs in his low, gravelly tone of his that I love. “You always say that.”

“Well, have you seen your penis? You’d give yourself a pat on the back if you managed it, too. It’s like a freaking Beluga Whale.”

“I…don’t know what that is.”

“Big sea thing,” I pant.

With another laugh, he starts slowly moving inside of me, and I watch us in the mirror, his body about double the width of mine even with my huge belly hanging down. I love that I can still feel small with Okot, even when I’m this huge. And I am freaking huge. My boobs have blown up like balloons and my ass puffed up like a baked cake. The guys love it though, so there’s that.

Okot takes me slowly, his pierced cock rubbing that perfect spot inside of me until I’m begging all sorts of unintelligible things, writhing against him as I continue to touch myself. If he keeps this up, he’ll probably fuck me right into labor.

When I come again, the orgasm is intense, spreading through me from head to toe until I become jelly in his arms. He pushes his hips up hard, buries his face against my neck, and finds his own release with the sexiest damn groan in the world.

Totally spent, I flop my head and arms onto the counter, but my belly is seriously heavy hanging down like this, so I grudgingly go upright again with Okot’s help. When my legs shake a bit, Okot laughs and kisses me sweetly on the lips. Keeping a firm hold on my arms, he uses a towel to clean us both off, and then he lowers a dress over me and starts doing up the ties.

“You’re so sweet to me,” I tell him, my eyes still shining with that post-orgasmic bliss.

“You are my beloved,” he says, like that explains everything.

And maybe it does.

Chapter 3

When we finally make our way out of the bathroom, dawning sunlight kisses the sky, basking our den in a lavender glow.

Sitting at the table, Okot serves me up my breakfast, which I inhale in about two point seven minutes.

I’m wiping my lips on a cloth napkin when the rest of my family comes barreling in from outside.

“Mommy! I flew! I flew!”

She races up to me, hopping up and down on her bare feet excitedly.

I beam, watching as her curls bounce with her movement, her cheeks flushed with excitement and the kiss of cool air outside.

“Already?” I ask, impressed. “That was fast.”

She runs over to Okot next, who’s at the stove, cooking everyone else a “normal” breakfast, as they call it. I really don’t know why they refuse to eat the limes and garlic toast. It’s delicious.