Hope (7 page)

I felt Clinton remove his right hand from my rear and slowly begin to insert a finger into my willing passage while still flicking his skilled tongue across my clit.  I was so wet that my tight tunnel admitted his advancing digit with ease and I gripped at him with my muscles, causing as much friction as possible, eking out as much pleasure as I could from his welcome invader.

In and out his finger sawed like a magic wand of ecstasy while maintaining a consistent flicking motion with his tongue, till the ball of pleasure inside my belly began to swell like a balloon.  My breathing became faster and harder, bordering on panting, and my voice occasionally caught in my throat as I exhaled, causing me to utter short ‘uh’s of wordless excitement.  I knew the balloon would soon pop and when Clinton inserted a second finger to pump into me alongside the first there was no holding it back and with what I’m sure was an almost audible ‘bang’ my orgasm was loosed within me.

My eyes shut tight against the explosion of sensation within my body as if they would be expelled from my head if I didn’t.  Hot pins and needles of pleasure prickled my entire being, radiating out from between my legs to tantalise the tips of my fingers and toes.  My head thrashed from side to side almost uncontrollably in the throes of my orgasm, causing my eyelids to darken and then lighten each time I faced one of the candles on the bedside tables.

After god only knows how long the overwhelming feelings coursing through my body began to subside and I was able to hear my own heavy breathing over a faint ringing in my ears.  Clinton’s tongue was still flicking over my clit, but much softer and slower than it had been and before I could do any more than register the fact, he stopped, raising himself up to his knees and undoing the button and zip of his pants.

Clinton pushed his pants and boxers downwards in the same single motion, revealing himself to me.  I watched as the material was removed and his hard shaft was brought into view.  I could tell that his eyes were fixed on mine as if watching to see what my reaction was.  Although we had seen each other naked several times before, this was fundamentally different and all at once it hit me, the enormity of the situation.

For the first time I was going to give myself to a man that I loved, who also loved me.  Not only that but I was going to give
all
of myself, everything that I held back from the throngs of mostly anonymous men captivated by my curse.  I was going to be Clinton’s, and he was going to be mine no matter what horrors or delights would befall us.  With the realisation my heart raced almost uncontrollably.

Clinton discarded the last remnants of his clothes from his position between my legs and leaned forward over me and braced his weight on one hand while he gripped the base of his erection with the other, aiming it purposefully at my still quivering entrance.  I put my left hand on his side and my right hand hooked on to the back of his neck as I felt the head of his member make contact with my labia and pause.  I stared up at him as if a single look could convey all my hopes, dreams, fears and love.  I wished I could find a way to tell him what he meant to me in the interval I had before he was inside me but sometimes a meaningful look is all you have time for.

He pushed forward and I pulled him close with the hand I had on his neck.  Our bodies met and I wrapped my arms and legs around him tightly at the same moment that his stiff dick buried itself to the hilt inside me.  We were as physically close as two people could possibly be and I held him there for a moment, savouring the knowledge almost as much as the feeling itself.

I loosened my grip slightly and Clinton pulled his head back before resting it down so we were forehead to forehead, eye to eye.  I pressed forward and kissed him lightly before gently biting his bottom lip, pulling it towards me and releasing it.  The quiet slap of his lower lip hitting his gums was like the world’s most discrete starting pistol and he began slowly thrusting his length in and out.

All my life I had been used by men entirely, or almost entirely, out of their minds with lust, the sex had been frantic and hard, feverish at times.  It was all I knew, hell, even my fantasies about Clinton had been rough and forceful.  By contrast Clinton’s slow and purposeful movements made for the slowest, most erotic and meaningful sex of my long life.

His long slow strokes allowed me to feel every inch of his thick shaft plunging inside me from engorged head to veiny base.  My ample breasts were squashed against Clinton’s chest.  I swear I could feel his heart beating in time with mine, sending strange pulses of pleasure into me as my pink nipples rubbed against him.

I gripped him inside me, wanting to feel him even more clearly on my slick walls and he grunted quietly in response but kept his pace at the same maddeningly arousing level and kissed me deeply, exploring my tongue with his own.  Over and over his thickness entered me and his pubic bone ground against my clit each time he bottomed out.  I felt my second orgasm growing within me, hot on the heels of the first.

Suddenly Clinton ramped up the pace of his thrusting and I heard a steady slapping of his balls on my ass as his newly urgent strokes jolted me up the bed inch by inch until my head was gently knocking on the headboard.  Still my slick tunnel clamped down on his thrusting length and the increased speed brought my orgasm ever closer.  Soon I felt myself tipping over the cliff of ecstasy, sounds were fading away as I fell into the orgasmic sea and with the last remnants of control I whispered into Clinton’s ear.

“Cum inside me, please cum inside me.”

Then I was floating on a cloud of bliss less relaxing but more intense than the one I remembered from my recent massage.  Waves of pleasure washed over me in time with each thrust of Clinton’s, which I could still dimly feel via some tenuous connection I maintained with my physical body.  In the next moment I felt a spurt of heat blast deep inside me, followed by several more becoming less voluminous and strong with each subsequent emission as Clinton fulfilled my last request.

Slowly I floated back down and became one with my own body again and was better able to feel the heat of Clinton’s seed seeping into me as he lay heavily on top of me, twitching sporadically in the end throes of his own orgasm.  I kept my legs wrapped around him, wanting to memorise every thought and sensation of that moment as I lay with my beloved’s sperm inside me for the first time.

I had no idea what trials lay ahead of us but I felt like the curse had already been lifted.  I had thought it impossible to be loved but there I was.  I thought it impossible to get pregnant while being infertile and I hoped against hope that I was wrong about that too.  As if reading my thoughts Clinton whispered a reassurance.

“I love you, Mary.  I promise we’ll beat this no matter what.  No matter how long it takes.”

For the time being, that was enough for me.

###

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(
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