Thank you, Christmas

“Step out of them baby.” I instruct. I managed to remove her cute cotton panties with the pants so here she stands, naked, and delicious. My eyes move down her thighs as my mouth continues to feast on these fucking D cups she was hiding under baggy shirts and see the evidence of her wish to be mine, sliding down her legs and shiny. “Baby, I can smell you. You smell like dessert. You need me to touch you, don’t you?” she nods her head pushing mine further into her chest and she gasps and moans, pushing her tits out. “No nodding, Angel. I need you to say the words. Once you say them, there is no going back. You were mine two years ago, but now, I need to know you know it. Say it, Ana. Tell me what you want.”

“You, Jamison. Please. It hurts.” shit. Her words work. Biting her nipple once more I move back and latch on to her mouth as I undress myself. The minute my pants fall, I know she can feel him as he bobs onto the top of her waist, homing in on his new happy place. She looks down and then back at me like I’m crazy. “Don’t worry baby. We will fit. We are meant for one another. Do you trust me?” holding out my hand I wait for the final admission that she is ready to move forward toward our future. She looks down at the hand waiting for her and back up at me, her lip once again between her teeth and places her hand in mine.

“Yes. I trust you.” thank fuck!!Chapter 5AnaIt’s true. I do trust him. I trust him enough to be standing in this beautifully simple house, naked, in his bedroom, praying that he makes it stop hurting. Even the word ‘hurt’ is too tame. I am in agony. Everything is aching. My heart, from the monument of emotions I feel for him, that seem to be growing stronger by the second. My eyes from looking at the way he looks at me. Not with pity or like a lost girl, but like a woman. His woman. But most of all, the bundle of nerves between my legs. I can feel every tingle, every pulse, and every drip. Hell, I am pretty sure the carpet is getting a taste as well. “Lay down.” he says, sending a bolt of desire through me. I lay down like he instructed and tell myself to breathe. I close my eyes for a second to allow everything but this moment to fade. I want to be here with him and not in my head somewhere else, questioning what ‘this’ is. I want to be the woman he thinks I am. “Fuck, Angel. Look at you. Everything about you calls to me. Your fucking hips that I know are made to spread as my seed grows bigger inside of you. Those tits that are going to get even more plump as they prepare to feed my sons. Your unblemished, skin that looks like snow on a dreary day and that swollen, begging, drippy little cunt that is going to make all of this a reality. You want that don’t you? You want to carry my sons, don’t you baby. You want me to kneel at the temple between your eatable thighs and worship this slick throne, sucking all the dew from it. All you have to do is say the words and everything you want is yours.”

Oh my gosh. If I wasn’t dying before I am now. Every dirty word out of his mouth is making me gush. Oh hell. Can he see it? I mean is it something he can see? Not that I care at this moment. The truth is, I want everything he said. I want children and a husband. I want to have the family I never had and give that love, hearth, and home to my kids. I want more than that though. I want it with him. I find myself undulating on the bed, my silent call for him to do with me what he wants. “I see you moving baby. I need you to tell me.” he drops to his knees and runs his nose up the slit. I jolt, the touch like lightning, sending fire through me. “Christ, Ana. Say it. Fuck. I need this honey on my tongue. Say it baby and give us both what we want.” I am too far gone. I can’t fight the words anymore. I need him.

“Please, Jamison. Make it stop. Lick me. Fuck me. Take me.” There is no time to think about the dirtiness that just spewed from my mouth.

“Thank fuck, angel.” he is barely done saying it before his mouth is on me.

“Yes.” I moan, moving my head back and forth. Oh God, it is overwhelming. It's too much and not enough. Hearing the wetness as he drinks my desire and need, is hotter than shit.