Fallon's Wonderful Machine (3 page)

"Oh no? What are going to do to me?"

"I'm going to fuck you stupid."

She pulled his trousers and underwear off.
His cock hard and ready. She wrapped her still dripping pussy
around the length. Slid up and down the shaft.

"Mm. Yeah. I bet you wish you were inside me
now, huh?"

"God, yes."

She guided the head of his cock along her
labia. Massaged the spot just under his balls. Marvelled at how
much harder it made him. How the glans grew and shrunk.

"You want me huh? You want me to fuck you?"
she asked.

"Yes. Yes!"

It was an act: she wanted him inside as much
as he did. Her pussy was starved. Ravenous. Swallowed his cock with
greed and longing. She read the pleasure in his face. Turned her on
even more. Using every muscle she pushed and felt his cock. The
texture, the size. The life. There was a living thing that moved
inside her now. A part of her man. Not the most essential or
important part. Usually. It was now. For both of them. She moved
slowly. Let him feel every part of her as she did him. Let it slip
out and breathe. Back inside to stretch her open again. Every
moment heaven for her and for him. Today at last. Today they were
one. In their room in the their bed in their house. Living their
moment. This everlasting moment where they slowly climbed together.
Eyes locked with eyes. Hands locked in hands. His sex locked in
hers.

She could read those eyes. She knew he was
going to erupt. And she was going to be engulfed in that eruption.
Together they would melt in one. Flow. Flow down the violent river.
Every wave that crashed into a rock, splashing them with cool
water. And they would laugh and scream in exhilaration. She read
it. It was written. It happened.

Five

And downstairs the machine did what it did. It
clicked sometimes. Other times it whirred. Sometimes both. How
sweet is the passage of time. How generous. One day the machine
would be disassembled. After it had stopped moving. When? When
Fallon and Darragh got engaged? The birth of their first child?
With Fallon old, handing the machine in parts lovingly wrapped in
oiled paper, in its ornate little chest, to a beloved grand-child,
child, or friend?

The machine kept its secrets.

###

About the Author

Maire De Léis is a citizen of the People
's Republic of Cork, in
É
ire. She decides how many peas goes in each pod and had her
head held underwater for five years in lieu of an
education.

Other
stories
by this author

Check your
neighbourhood
e-book
retailer
for these
other
stories
by Maire De
Léis:

Born From a
Rose

The Girl who Owned Wednesday (coming
soon!)

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reading my story! That was awesome of you. Other awesome things you
can do is:

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