Extra hot.
Her pussy’s tight and soft, lips spread around my cock, and so are her tits. They harden the closer she gets to orgasm. I reach up and knead them, thumbing her nipple how she likes.
Bel’s eyes fly open. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“My milk—”
“It’s coming in?”
She bites her lip. “I think I might—if I come—”
“Only one way to find out.”
One hand on her tit, I move the other to her pussy. I thumb her nipple and her clit with smooth, firm strokes, and she moans, digging her teeth into her bottom lip to contain the sound.
Her pussy contracts, gripping me like a vise.
She closes her eyes. Rises up on a thrust. A wave. I take in the beautiful lines of her body. I love how full her tits are. How her curves have filled out.
Annabel’s always been beautiful to me. But at this moment, her movements ardent, focused, I am downright stunned by how gorgeous she is.
Inside and out, this girl is so damn pretty.
“Aw, yeah, honey,” I say, lifting my hips to meet her at the top of her thrust.
She shatters, clamping down around me, and I groan, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from coming myself.
I feel something warm dripping down the hand that cups her breast.
It’s a silvery liquid, almost clear against my skin.
“Is it—”
“Yes.”
Her eyes, still heavy-lidded, open. Her cheeks, already flushed, burn red.
“Oh my God,” she says, grabbing the edge of the blanket. “I’m sorry. That’s so gross, I know.”
I gently push away the hand that tries to clean up the mess. Both her breasts are leaking now, watery droplets that land on my skin and the sheets.
“Not gross at all. I mean, think about it.” I thrust, reminding her. “I release bodily fluids every time I do this. Semen is way grosser than breast milk.”
Bel smiles, her expression softening. She leans down. Kisses my mouth. “Nothing about you is gross. Not even your semen.”
“Wanna put your money where your mouth is?”
Her blue eyes flash with heat. “What do you have in mind?”
In reply, I grab her and roll on top of her. Taking charge. I draw her knee up to her chest and I roll my hips, sinking inside her. She gasps. Our eyes remain locked as I find my rhythm. I take my time, even though I know I don’t have much of it.
Her tits are still leaking.
She tries to wipe it away, but I swat away her hand. Lowering my head, mouth poised over her skin, I ask, “May I?”
Her lips part. Fingers glide into my hair. “Yeah,” she whispers. “If you want.”
I lick. Maybe it makes me a perv. Maybe it makes Bel feel a little more at home in her new skin.
Either way, I don’t mind it. Tastes more like water than anything else, to be honest.
Either way, the intimacy of it makes my desire spike.
I pull out of her, rip off the condom. Quick, quick, quick.
My hands are sticky with lube.
Jacking myself off one last time, I come on her stomach and tits. Ropes of thick, hot cum bead on her skin.
She’s covered. In me. Her.
Her eyes are closed again.
For a second, I worry I’ve gone too far. I really have grossed her out.
But then she’s looking at me, she’s sighing softly, she’s got this naughty glint in her eye. She takes my hand in hers, and together we touch her skin and smear together what’s there. Wet. Hot.
I can feel the drum of her pulse inside her skin.
She brings my fingers to her lips. The ones that are coated. She kisses them. Takes them inside her mouth.
Tasting me, just like I tasted her.
I hang my head. Not only is the feel of her tongue against the pads of my fingers infinitely erotic. It’s also…perfect.
The give and take between us is so effortlessly perfect.
We get it. I get her. She gets me.
It’s never been this way with anyone else.
And I know, somewhere in the space between skin and bones and soul, that it’ll never be this way with anyone but Annabel.
Yeah.
Fucked doesn’t begin to describe our situation.
But what the hell can I do? I guess part of me thought the hard stop we have coming might take the intense edge off our encounters. I thought it might calm us down a bit. Keep us, I don’t know, a little more guarded.
But she keeps giving, and I keep taking, and even though it makes me feel like the world’s biggest asshole, I can’t stop.
So I’ll give back what I have. Love her the only way I know how. With my whole heart.
And try my very best to pretend that the hard stop doesn’t exist.
To: Annabel Rhodes ([email protected])
From: John Beauregard ([email protected])
April 4, 2018 10:09 PM EST
Subject: Welcome to Blue Mountain Farm!
It’s official: we have an opening date! Granted, it’s not until 2019, but hey, we have a website, so that must mean it’s real. Check it out: www.BlueMountainFarmResort.com