E P I L O G U E
Lincoln
Five years later
“Easy, Kick.” Her hips come back to take a few inches of me in one swoop even as I hear her gasp and yelp.
“More.”
I ease in slowly. Her ass feels so fucking good, but I love slow. I love watching her body open to me even as she shakes and tries to gobble my shaft faster.
A loud smack and another yelp fill the bedroom as I set her head straight with a slap on the right side of her ripe ass.
“I said easy. Face down, ass up doesn’t mean you get to be in charge here. I’ll give you what you need. Don’t I always? So quit trying to take, and enjoy what I give.” My voice is hard, but it’s what she needs. What she wants.
Ass-fucking her has become her addiction. The first time—God how many years ago now?—she came so hard she passed the fuck out. Now, understand, I took months getting her ass ready to take me. Fingers, toys, my mouth. By the time my dick slipped into that tight, dark hole, it was all fucking rainbows and unicorns for my girl.
She’s been my personal ass slut ever since. And that’s a compliment of the highest order.
“God, that feels so good.” Her voice is muffled by the rumpled linen comforter which she is fisting in each hand. Holding herself steady, trying not to rock back on me, but I can tell she’s already on the edge.
“How about now?” I slam a few thick, hard inches forward, watching from above as my cock, shiny from the lube, disappears into her ass.
“Oh God.”
I rock back and forth, increasing the tempo. Both my hands come down to her hips, holding her steady and pulling her ass apart so I can see more, get deeper.
The tight ring pulses, and my cum is rising up, my balls ready to heave. The scent of her pussy is on my face, filling the air and driving me crazy.
I slip in and out, faster and harder until she’s right there. I can feel the edge, so I pull almost completely out of her and hold there. The tension nearly killing me, but just as she starts to beg, I slam every inch deep inside.
Her body spasms. She’s gone, and I’m right with her. Both of us coming in grunts and moans. My dick shooting cum deep into her ass as I hold myself embedded inside her, emptying everything I have.
I lower my chest to her back, both of us panting and her ass still gripping the base of my cock for dear life. I love how that feels when she comes, like she needs me. Her body needs me as much as I need her.
“God, that makes me come so hard.” She giggles and turns her head as much as she can to catch my eye. Hers are twinkling, that sweet innocence mixed with this insatiable vixen that has my heart wrapped around her little finger.
“You and me both.” I kiss between her shoulder blades, trying to regain my bearings.
Just then, the sound of a loud buzzer breaks into our moment.
“Turkey’s done,” she says and I laugh.
“Good thing we remembered to thaw it this year.”
We both laugh as I slowly withdraw from her. After disengaging ourselves, she turns over, flopping onto her back.
“God, you are fucking gorgeous.”
I stand up, my dick as hard as it was before I came. And I know if we had time, I’d give it another go right here and now, but we have guests arriving in an hour.
“Shower,” she moans. “I feel gloriously messy, but I want to actually be semi-sex-scent-free when everyone gets here.”
“Your wish is my command.” I walk over into the attached bath in the master suite and get the shower going. As it warms up, I take a few minutes and get myself clean again. I took a shower earlier with her, but for the last two hours, we’ve been mixed up between the sheets.
We built this house four years ago. It’s on a bluff outside of Provo. The view is more spectacular than any postcard, and we took full advantage. Every possible window looks out over the valley below, including the floor-to-ceiling ones here in the bathroom. The shower feels as though it’s hanging in the air above the canyon.
When I walk back into the bedroom, she’s up, fussing with her phone answering a text, and the buzzer goes off again, reminding us along with the comforting scent in the air that Thanksgiving dinner is well on its way to being a success.
“I’ll go get the turkey out.” I step toward the bedroom door, grabbing my jeans off the chair where I tossed them earlier.
“Hey, it’s Angela.” Holli taps on the screen of her phone then looks up at me. “She and the kids are on their way. Will be here about a half hour early.” Her cheeky smile still grabs me in places no one else ever will.
“Good thing we wrapped up playtime when we did.” I sidestep her way and plant a kiss on her lips. They are still pouty and a little puffy from the hour-long session of sixty-nine we had before I took her ass.
“Go get the turkey before it’s charcoal.” She smacks my chest and goes back to her phone. “Angela’s bringing spinach salad. Said the kids were great last night.”
Angela spent ninety days in a rehab here in Provo, which I paid for after Holli told me about her struggle with alcohol. She then lived another six months in a sober living facility and is now working on her psychology degree at the same university where Holli earned her masters.
She helps with the kids and has become a beautiful fixture in our lives. I understand infinitely better why Holli put up with so much from her. She always seems to be able to see the diamond inside the coal.
Halfway down the stairs, I’m engulfed by the scent of home and family. This is our third Thanksgiving we’ve hosted here. Every year it grows, having more people who seem to drop into our lives and become family.
For both Holli and me, our parents gone, both only children, creating this sense of tradition and community has been a driving force in our lives.
The long wooden table in the main great room is set, and the candles are flickering. The fire is a bit low, so I make a note to throw a couple logs on after I take care of the turkey.
Inside the kitchen, I grab the two red potholders and open the oven. The heat comes out in a burst, and my mouth is watering from the smell.
I take the turkey out, setting it on the granite counter of the island. It’s done a little early, but better than four hours late like last year. Holli and I got tangled up in the bedroom and forgot to pull the damn thing out to defrost in time.
I want her as much now as I did that first day I saw her in the penthouse. She’s more beautiful every day, and I’m on her at least twice a day.
Or she’s on me. Our desire for each other is epic, and I thank God everyday for her.
We spend most of our time here at the house, with the kids. Becky is three now, and Lincoln Jr. was just one last week. I never thought I’d love being a dad, but it’s the best job on earth.
Holli spends a good amount of time at the university. She teaches a couple classes there as well as takes the occasional forensics case for law enforcement around Utah. Contract work, because she refuses to be gone for even a night.
We’ve not slept apart a single night since the day I came into her apartment and Cruzer was on her. My possessiveness has only increased. And luckily, she understands it’s because I love her so fucking much. Yep, I’m obsessed. No doubt.
I track her phone, her car; I go with her almost everywhere. Sure, it’s a little stalkerish, but she’s mine, and it’s my job to take care of what’s mine.
One hundred percent.