“Relax and push out against me. Think of how full you’re going to feel. What a dirty girl you’re going to be with my cock in your ass, hmm?”
My words have the desired effect, dispelling her apprehension, and then when I reach around to massage her clit, she melts even more, humming her tuneless happy hum once again.
And so I begin.
I forge ahead slowly, tenderly, letting her find her breath when she needs it and giving her a much-needed break after my head pops past her first ring of muscle. I don’t pull out, but neither do I keep cramming in—I wait and let her breathe around the huge invasion, playing with her clit as I do.
Gradually, inevitably, the discomfort becomes something more complicated, the more complicated thing then in turn becomes a new kind of pleasure. I wait until I see this transformation ripple through her body, until her limbs go from a taut wariness to seeking me out. A hand reaches back for me, her feet part and open up her ass even wider, and most tellingly, her hips move back against me; she’s ready for more.
I impale her with care and love. I pierce her with affection and attention. I stretch and invade and stroke into her with every iota of emotion I’ve ever had for this girl—protectiveness and love and amusement and respect—it seeps into everything, and when I finally have her stretching around the base of me, I am barely holding it together. Trembling, sweating, my vision going dim around the edges.
“How are you?” I manage to say through the pleasure-fugue. “How are you doing?”
“I’m—” She’s shivering too, covered in a thin layer of sweat, and I can hear her pounding heartbeat in the threadiness of her voice. “I’m good. Strange. But good.”
“I’m going to move now,” I say in a hoarse voice. “I’m going to fuck you.”
“Yes, please, I—” I’ve started massaging her clit in earnest now and her words fall away into a moan. I slide carefully out, all the way to the tip, and then slide back in.
There are no words for it.
There are no words.
And I’m going to come embarrassingly fast.
“I’ve never been bare with a woman,” I mumble, my eyes glued to where my cock powers in and out of her. My naked cock, and fuck, if I’d known how good a naked cock could feel inside a woman, I don’t know that I would have been such a saint about wearing a condom. It’s slicker, just more, and her ass is the tightest, hottest fucking tunnel, and knowing that when I come it will touch her, it will be inside her—
No, I can’t do that, I promised, I promised—
Fuck, fuck, why did I ever make such a foolish declaration? Because now it’s all I want, all I ever want, and it feels like if I can’t do this, if I can’t have this one thing, I’ll die. I’ll simply die.
“It feels so dirty,” she whispers. “You being back there.”
“You like it, baby? You like me back there?”
“Fuck—yes.”
“Filthy girl,” I growl, banding an arm around her waist and raising her up to near-standing, keeping her upright as I thrust with an arm against her chest and a hand around her throat. My other hand continues to rub her pussy, tease fingers at her sopping wet slit. “You’re wet all over my hand. You get so wet for me, don’t you? So wet to have my cock in your ass?”
My words and my hand have her squirming and tightening and her hands flying backwards to grab at my shoulders. And then, with me buried deep inside her, stretching her virgin asshole, she climaxes with a slow, rolling cry, low and earthy and long. My name comes out, so does God’s, but mostly it’s that long cry, a cry that could be a hymn unto itself. A cry I memorize like a prayer.
She is everything around me, not just the slick massage squeezing my cock, but the nubile press of skin and warmth in front of me, the rose scent in my nose, the sweet taste of her cunt still on my tongue. Her laughter still in the air, the evidence of her passion and devotion all around us. Her clever words and her contradictions and her bravery and her vulnerability and her determination—
The jagged lurch just behind my cock almost warns me too late, and I jerk myself outside of her right as I start ejaculating. Cum goes everywhere, thick ropes of it, and like the animal I am, I’m pressing her cheeks around my spurting cock and fucking the cum-covered cleft until the climax finally wrings itself out and my body relaxes by degrees.
We are sticky and slick with oil and cum, Zenny laughing weakly as she comes to standing and wipes a hand across her sweaty face. I know I look ridiculous completely naked, with a still-wet cock and moonstruck expression on my face, but none of that is enough to stop the stupid words from coming out. I’m just so happy and I feel so good, and she’s smiling and stretching like a cat, and I love her I love her I love her.
“I love you,” I say.
And the world comes to a crashing halt.
Chapter 27
Zenny turns to me, her face frozen.
“What did you say?” she whispers.
I’m reaching for a handful of paper towels to wipe off the oil and…other things. “I said I love you. Now hold still for me, please.”
She bats my hand away before I can start trying to clean her. Her smile is gone, her eyes are wide, and her entire body is tensed—a frightened deer, ready to flee.
“You…love me?” She says it like I just confessed to fucking microwaved melons in my spare time; her words are filled with horror and near-revulsion.
“Zenny.” But before I can think of anything else to say, before I can even get a handle on the blistering, wailing hole in my chest—the hole that she made—she keeps going.
“You said, when we started this, you said we wouldn’t fall in love!”
“Let me clean you up first.”
She backs away from me. “You said,” she accuses.
I sigh and settle for extending the paper towels to her. She takes them warily. “I never said that,” I tell her. “You said that I hadn’t brought it up. And then I said I didn’t think it would be a problem for you.”
Something wounded flashes in her eyes, bounds away faster than I can trace it to its source. “And do you want it to be a problem for me?”
This feels like a trick question. One I should be old and wise enough to answer, and yet I can’t answer it safely, because I’m not wise. Everything with Zenny has been new from the start, and this is the newest thing of all. Loving her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask carefully.
She scrubs at her body without meeting my eyes. “You know what it means.”
She’s not baiting me, I know she’s not, and yet I can’t help but feel hurt. Hurt in the kind of way where you’ve made yourself vulnerable and someone else has made you feel foolish for it. And extra hurt because I knew better, I knew better, I knew I shouldn’t have forced her to hear this thing that only makes her life harder. And on top of it all, I know it’s stupid to have done this and then to pull the I’m a sad boy routine on her.
And then I see that crushed look on her face again and her trembling chin and she’s so young. So, so young.
“I don’t want you to have any problems, not a single one, not even me. When I told you I wanted to be your dragon outside of the castle, I didn’t mean it like…like I’m the only one who gets to keep you hostage. I meant it like I wish I could burn everything bad away in your life so you can do whatever you want.”