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I open my eyes and look at him. He is watching me with such awe that my pussy clenches and the suction fails, the cock popping off the wall.
“See how tight you are? See how hard you milk me?” he says, using my arousal to restick the dildo to the wall. “How does it feel?”
“So fucking good,” I moan, letting my body lead the way, tightening and releasing around both dildos.
“Okay,” he says, fisting his dripping cock. “If you want to stop this anytime, you slap my thigh. I’ll let you know before I come so there’s no surprises, okay?”
My whole body is alive with desperate need for what’s about to happen. I’m about to be fully owned by this man. Every hole with him in control. Giving me endless pleasure.
He climbs onto the island behind my head, and I lift my hands to hook around his thighs and bring him closer. His cock hover just out of reach of my mouth.
“Remember, slap my thigh.”
“Yes,” I say, more out of desperation than agreement. Then he lowers his cock towards my mouth.
I take the bulb of him in one greedy mouthful, swirling my tongue over his salty head. He groans, holding himself above me so I’m not forced to take his full length too soon. I work up to it, and by the time I have him bumping against the back of my throat, I’ve found a position that doesn’t make me gag.
I feel his hand come around my ass and press the small dildo further in, then his mouth, hot and eager is on my clit and stars burst behind my eyes.
It’s a thousand times better than I’d imagined. I do feel full. Every hole owned by him and him sucking my clit and licking around my stretched out, sensitive entrance.
Within minutes, I’m coming apart, sucking on his cock in waves that mirror the pleasure I experience.
“I’m going to come,” he says urgently, trying to pull away from me. But I hold onto him tighter, holding him in place as he shatters and spills straight down my throat.
He groans with each jerk of his cock, the last one almost a whimper of surprise as he finishes in my mouth.
My pussy is still quivering on one toy, my ass still clenched around the other.
He lifts himself from me and gets off the counter before gently removing the toys from me and dropping them into the paper bag.
He lifts me in his arm, cradling me close to his chest, and carries me to his bedroom.
“How are you?” he asks, and I manage a satisfied sound in response.
He kisses me lightly everywhere he can reach. The tip of my nose, my cheek, my chin, my shoulder.
“Well,” I finally say. “At least I know we’re compatible as man and wife.”
He laughs. “Not just in the bedroom though.”
“No,” I agree. “Not just in the bedroom.”
Epilogue
Garick
Andrei's cast came off yesterday.
This morning, he's standing on the north dock in the rain with a clipboard in his good hand and a pink scar cutting straight through his left eyebrow, arguing with a truck driver about a manifest.
He's winning.
Arina stands beside him in a long camel coat and boots, her hair twisted up under the hood, reading over his shoulder. Every so often, she points at something on the page. Andrei nods. The driver, who walked in thinking he could talk his way past a twenty-four-year-old with a scarred face and a woman, has gone very quiet.
I lean against the railing a few feet behind them and say nothing.
It's my favorite place to stand these days.
