“And I’m a good Catholic boy,” I tell her. I’m not embarrassed to admit that, I’m proud. Proud that I had faith she’d come back to me.
“You mean…?”
I nod. “It was always you, Malta.” Taking her by the hips, I start to rock her gently, her ass providing just the tiniest friction against my cock, aware that my thumbs are so close to that maneater beneath her panties. “How could I even think about other women when I’d already met the most perfect being in the world? If I couldn’t have you, I may as well become a monk.”
She laughs, nodding, and there’s no cruelty in it. Just happiness as she rocks against me. Taking a chance, I lean forward, moving her back onto my lap, and she doesn’t try to stop me. Her hands drop to grip me through the sheets as I reach around behind her, unclasping her bra, kissing her dark nipples through it as it comes loose. She moans, fingers glancing herself through the lacy shorts.
“Put your hand inside your panties,” I tell her, and her eyes snap open, meeting mine. “Do it, baby. Let me see how you pleasure yourself.”
Tentatively, she slides her hand inside the waistband, and I see the bulge of her fingers as they reach her cunt, sliding forward, back, forward, back.
“Like this?”
“Yes, angel.” I put my hand on her tit, guiding the movement of her body as she plays, twisting her nipple between my fingers. Her free hand goes to my cock, stroking me through the sheets as she throws her head back and moans low in her throat. “Fuck…” I grunt with need. “You’re a natural.”
She giggles as she leans forward, hand still moving inside the lacy panties, placing her free hand on my chest as her stomach rasps against my cock through the sheet. I growl as I take her tit in my mouth, suckling on her nipple, licking it as she strokes herself.
Malta undulates against me, her body quivering as she brings herself close. I reach down and cup her hand in mine, pushing my fingertips against her soaked sex, listening to her high-pitched mewl of delight as I bring her close. I kiss her shoulder, her throat, then take her lips, soft and plump, warm and glistening.
My Malta, my angel. She might have needed to leave this city for a while, but there was never any doubt in my mind that we would be together again.
“Oh, God,” she moans as she moves back, fingers quickening against her clit, so swollen I can feel it through the lace boy shorts. “God, please, I need…”
“Do it, baby. Let it go. I want it. Soak the sheets.”
“I think that ship has sailed,” she whispers, a laugh hinting the edges of the words.
“Do it for me,” I tell her, pressing my fingers into her slit and hearing her cry of need.
She rocks against my cock, building the pressure, and I feel my balls grow heavy. She moves faster, and I start to grunt with the effort of holding back. Suddenly, I hate the sheets between us, hate the fact that they are going to prevent me from shooting off inside her. I start to tear them away but her hand is instantly there, holding them in place, her hips starting to raise and lower, friction building against the shaft of my dick as she brings herself close.
I have to fight to hold back, growling with a combination of need and frustration that this load won’t be inside my angel. She cries out, her breathing hard, as I sit forward and take her nipple once again in my mouth. I bite down hard, listening to her yelp, letting her know that she’s mine, gripping her ass with both hands as I move her up and down, up and down.
“On the count of three, baby. One.”
She nods, her fingers now squelching inside her, making me grit my teeth with annoyance that it’s not my cock in there, that my balls aren’t slapping against her ass as I sink deep inside her.
“Two.” My heart thunders as my orgasm comes so close to the edge it’s like a shotgun loaded and aimed, heavy with potential. “Three,” I murmur, and hear Malta scream.
Her body quivers and shakes, as cream flows freely from her cunt, soaking my hand, soaking the sheets. I pump load after load against them from beneath, so that our body fluids mix in the fabric that keeps us apart. Malta kisses my lips, her damp fingers sliding out from her panties, gripping my face, and I smell the scent of her release. Then she collapses on top of me, her breathing starting to calm as she leans her head against my chest.
We lie like that for what seems like forever, content in each other’s arms. But the doctor’s face keeps intruding into my thoughts, looking stern, annoyed that I ignored his instructions.