Thousands (Dollar 4)

Sex was a noun, but here, now, it was a verb, an adjective, a living, breathing entity that filled me up and made me burst.

I didn’t think about how foreign it was to touch myself after never doing such a thing. I didn’t ponder on what Elder would think of me chasing my own pleasure.

All I focused on, all I could focus on, was the pummelling of his hard size in my pussy, the rapidly building pressure of muscles being hammered by his lust, and the spike of blissful insanity as I rubbed my clit with my fingertips.

Him and me together.

Chasing the ultimate paradise.

I wasn’t programmed for soft loving. Whether a by-product of my past or I’d always been built that way, I needed to feel the thrum and not just a tickle.

I punished myself as surely as he punished me and I loved it.

Fucking loved it.

Elder grabbed my hips, holding me steady to drive into me harder. “Fuck, that’s it. Christ, Pim. Make yourself come while I fuck you. Feel my cock in you. Feel me hold you down and know you can’t go anywhere. You’re mine. You belong to me. My cock belongs in you. Your orgasms belong to me. Everything about you belongs to me.” His pace turned crazed, his sweat dripping onto my spine as he drove into me faster, harder. “Come with me, Pimlico. Come. Now. Christ…come…” His voice switched to a lupine growl, and I rubbed so hard, a cramp shot down my arm and into my fingers.

The pain only added another dimension.

And this time…this time, I reached the finish line before him.

I screamed loud and uncaring as the crescendo found me, rippling down my core, squeezing inner muscles, shooting me into utopia as my legs gave out and I puddled over the couch arm.

The rush of liquid heat ensured my body was ready for deeper penetration.

Elder took full advantage.

He reared up, hands clamped on my hips, burying himself as far as he could as he roared out a second release.

On and on he thrust, feeding me his pleasure.

His cock throbbed with its own heartbeat, and residual clenches from my orgasm battered both of us.

He’d taken me twice.

He’d ravaged every part of me.

I was boneless, breathless, mindless.

But it wasn’t over.

Once more should be the key.

Lucky number three.

I honestly didn’t know if my heart could stand another. It bashed against my ribs as if it’d torn free from veins and arteries and suffocated in a pool of pleasure.

I gasped and gulped, my hair over my face, my dress in tatters.

I believed I had a few moments of reprieve while he gathered himself together.

Not this time.

Almost angrily, Elder withdrew and stumbled away. I turned in time to see him clutching his head, shaking and mumbling, his eyes squeezed shut.

He was resplendent in a tumbled tux and glistening cock spearing out from beneath his black shirt. His trousers still clung to his muscular thighs—neither one of us nude even after two bouts of passion.

Not bothering to hide my breasts or rub at the trickle of his seed on my inner thigh, I moved toward him.

He was still hard.

Still ready.

He couldn’t stop now.

Three was the magical number.

I would survive another.

I had to.

He had to.

We had to do this if my theory was ever to be tested.

Elder held up his hand. “Stop, Pim. I’m trying so fucking hard—”

“No, you stop.” If he was back to fighting it, this wouldn’t work. He had to give in because I needed to know if this experiment would work. If it didn’t, then Jethro and Nila Hawk would stumble upon us tomorrow gasping for water and bruised beyond recognition from marathon sex all night. But if it did work, then we could finally find peace as well as pleasure and find a way forward we both could live with.

I got to indulge in this new side of me.

And he got to have me knowing there was an end in sight.

Come on, Elder.

Don’t stop.

“I want more.” Swaying toward him, I cursed the weakness of my voice—the scratch of being well used. But I wasn’t lying. I did want more. I wanted this now, and I wanted more in the future.

I wouldn’t let him ruin it.

He said I belonged to him.

Well, for the first time, I wanted to belong to someone, but only if I could have him in return.

He had to do what I wanted…he has to.

Tackling him, I climbed his body and reached for his mouth. But he grabbed my wrists in one hand and my cheeks with the other, his eyes blazing into mine. “What are you doing to me?”

“Trying to free you.” Dangling in his grip, I fought to get free. “Let it happen.”

“Stop.”

I managed to wriggle out of his grip, swatting away his touch, and darting in to kiss him. “Fuck me, Elder Prest. You’re not finished yet.”