He caresses my tits, lightly rubbing them.
“I think it matches up pretty well with what I want, Rainier.”
“Tell me what you want then, Sugar. What’s your dream life? What’s your wildest fantasy? How can I make it happen?”
I giggle. “I told you I want to have my own bakery someday. I want to be a famous baker. But that’s just what I want to be to the rest of the world. To my lover, to my family, I want nothing more than to be a mother, to have a big, huge family, maybe a half-dozen kids to dote on and fatten up with all the goodies I can create.”
“So you’re on board with being my pregnant little milker, then?”
More laughter. “I’m sure I’d enjoy that for as long as you can do it, Rainier. Because while all that happens, I want to keep my man enthralled by me. Madly in love with me because of what I do for him, and what I do to him.”
“I like the sound of that. Sounds like we got compatible ideas of our perfect lives, don’t we?”
Perfect. I hear it, and it echoes in my head. I thought I had the perfect life ahead of me coming up here. A cozy cabin for Christmas, and starting in a pastry school in the spring. I was overjoyed for what was going to happen. Then my mother snatched it all away from me. And now, once again I’m faced with perfection, and it all seems way too good to be true.
My smile falters, but I shake my head, and try to keep beaming. Why am I ruining this for myself? “Maybe we should make it happen.”
“Maybe,” he replies, running a finger through my hair. “I have to say that you have quite the dirty mind for a virgin, Sugar. It’s not a complaint, I really like it. It’s more of an observation.”
My eyes drift off to the ceiling. “It’s a bit ironic, really. Because I couldn’t make myself come, so I became fascinated with all sorts of dirty things. Lots of videos. Stories on the internet. People sharing their fantasies. If I’d been able to make myself come normally, maybe I’d be a regular old boring virgin, but my body’s denial has filled me with so many sinful thoughts.”
“You’ve tried toys, right?”
I nod. “Lots of them. Here, I’ll show you one.”
I clamor over to my bag and bring out my vibrator. It’s a pretty fancy deluxe one, something I bought myself when I learned of my financial windfall. Carrying it over to Rainier, though, I’m struck with how inferior it looks compared to the real thing.
“Uh,” I say as I bring it side by side with Rainier’s cock. The only thing I can say for the vibrator is it has that weird hook thing that I think is meant to massage my clit. It’s shorter and thinner otherwise, and doesn’t have that natural warmth that the man next to me has. I guess Rainier requires more power than two double-A batteries to run, so that’s a vote in his favor.
“Have I spoiled you, Sugar? Making you regret your purchase?” he says playfully. “I don’t think they'll let you return it after use.”
I toss it aside and take hold of his cock, kissing him again. With a firm hold on him, I jerk him as we make out, our bodies pressing together.
“You’re that hungry for more, aren’t you?”
“You aren’t? You’re already hard again and I sucked you off ten minutes ago.”
“I can’t help it if you’re that unbelievably sexy, Sugar.”
I giggle as I slide down his body, still so enthralled by every muscle, every curve. He’s addicting and I’m so driven to please him.
Yet I’m doubting our connection. It’s a tug of war inside me. I asked for no-strings-attached sex, but I don’t think one-night stands involve this much connection, this much drive and desire to please your partner. This is far more than just sex.
But I can’t stop myself. I want Rainier. I take his cock into my mouth again, I jerk it, I suck him, I push myself to swallow his cock whole. I look up at him in earnest determination, wanting his approval.
Wanting his love.
I’m no veteran of love, but I understand when something’s risky.
The second time around, I push myself harder to please him. Faster, more driven bobs up and down his cock, juggling his balls in my fingers as I suck him.
It gives me a rush like I can’t imagine. Like I’m the sexiest woman on Earth.
Hearing his moans, and the rush that follows, he sings my praises until... well...
He erupts.
Somehow just as much as before, and I only manage to swallow some of the sweetness that comes, gulping as much of it up as I can, wanting it to slide down my throat, to fill my belly, but ultimately? I’m one huge mess.