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“Ride my fat cock with that tight pussy,” he says.
His dirty words spur me on and I continue to bounce on his dick until I feel that familiar rumble of an impending orgasm roaring toward me.
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” I tell him.
“Me too,” he says, his voice strained.
I start to pull off of him, but he holds me tight against his body. I guess I assumed that because he wants to date me, he wouldn’t want to come inside of me right now. We haven’t discussed what me getting pregnant with his child would mean if we pursue this relationship. Maybe he hasn’t thought that far either and is just doing what we’re used to doing with each other. I don’t try to stop him. And when I feel the warmth of his semen filling my insides, I close my eyes and let it sink in.
He stays inside of me, and together we lie down in a spooning position. I don’t know how he manages to stay hard after that—or maybe he’s only semi hard and he’s so big I still feel full of him.
“What if I get pregnant now?” I ask him as he caresses my hard nipples with the tips of his fingers. It sends a shiver through me. I’m still turned on. Still ready to go at a moment’s notice. If he made a move, I’d be ready to go again.
“Do you want to get pregnant now?” he asks.
“Well, yes. I want a baby more than anything.”
“My baby?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then let’s make a baby.”
“But what do you want? Are you ready to be a father?”
He kisses my shoulder and starts to move his hips. I can feel him growing bigger inside of me as he slowly moves in and out. “I am. I’ve just been waiting for the right woman to come along, and now that you have, I want nothing more than to have a child with you. But now we can take our time and do it on our own terms.”
I gasp as he pushes all the way into me, the head of his cock buried so deep inside me it knocks against my cervix. He starts to fuck me again, but this time is less frenzied and far more sensual and loving. He takes his time, reaches around to rub my clit. I twist my body so that I can see his face, land a kiss on his lips as he fucks me from behind. I moan into his mouth as I’m engulfed in pleasure.
I can’t believe this is actually happening. I’ve fallen for a man who loves me back and is ready to start a family. I was starting to think there wasn’t such a thing. A man like that in Los Angeles is a unicorn, a yeti, something found in a fairytale that doesn’t actually exist. But he’s here, inside of me, and I have no intention of ever letting go, no matter his past.
He pulls out and rolls me onto my back and climbs on top of me. Brushing the sweaty hair off my face, he stares into my eyes and lays delicate kisses on my lips, nose, and chin as he sinks deep into me again. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.
His lips brush against my throat, and he sucks at my skin. There will probably be a hickey there the next morning, but I don’t care. It can be covered up with makeup. I like the way it feels and I like the possessive inclination of what it means. He’s marking his territory. I’m his. He’s mine. No one else is allowed.
As he digs deep into me, my thighs clinch against his sides, and I thrust my hips up to meet his. Our skin slaps against each other. Aggressively, passionately, forcefully, like two rams beating our horns together for territory.
The muscles in my stomach and ass start to contract and quiver. He slows down, knowing that if we keep this up we’ll both be done. I can feel him start to tense up as well and neither of us can stop or slow down what’s about to happen. He comes with a roar that can probably be heard from inside the building. My own orgasm screams out of me as well and my legs start to shake and cramp.
Chaucer, tired and smiling from his orgasm, lies next to me, his hands folded on his chest, looking up at the moon roof that spans the entire length of the car.
“You wore me out,” he says, reaching over and taking my hand in his.
I’m panting, trying to catch my breath. “I wore myself out,” I say, even though he did most of the work.
We lay here in amicable silence, touching each other’s skin, breathing each other’s air. Normally I’d be content to just lie here with him in silence, but I have to know: “Why do people think you cheated them out of their money? It seems so unlike you, it’s hard for me to imagine anyone thinking of you as the kind of person who would do something like that.”
