Epilogue #2
I fish my cock out of the elastic waistband, drag her lace to the side some more, and notch the head at her entrance.
She’s already dripping on my tip, slicking the head with clear, sticky juice.
I look down between us, watch my cock split her open, her hairless folds stretching wide around the head as I thrust up and bury every inch.
This is the position she swears she can’t finish in. Diana needs to be fucked from behind. But now her hands brace on my shoulders, and she takes me, meeting every thrust.
Once. Twice, I thrust until I find the rhythm, and she finds it too, her hips rolling to meet mine, grinding her clit against my pelvis every time she descends. For someone who doesn’t like this angle, she sure is drenching my lap, her wetness running down my cock and onto my balls.
Her tits bounce in front of me and I chase them.
Tongue, mouth, teeth grazing the nipples, their soft, heavy weight, while she makes a sound low in her throat.
I thrust again, cock spearing up, hitting deep, the wet sound slurping on every upstroke.
Her lips drag along my shaft, gripping the ridge of my head every time I pull back.
The sound of skin slapping skin, but it’s nowhere near the rough she likes. Nowhere near the blunt, overwhelming pressure she reaches for when she needs to shut her head off. The place she goes where there’s no room for thought, no room to feel anything except the physical.
“Kai, ahh… more.” She swallows. “Please more.”
I grip her hips tighter and I look at her. Bouncing, matching my rhythm, rolling to meet every upward thrust and chasing what she knows I’m withholding. I can feel it in her body. The small, restless roll. The impatience in her thighs. The way her weight tips forward, begging for harder use.
I give her the same pace. Medium. Controlled.
“K-kai.” Her voice cracks. “Flip me already.”
Her hands are on my shoulders, but she’s not directing. Not the way she usually does. Her words are starting to slip, too.
I keep going. I piston up into her, watching her face fall apart.
Her breath comes in short, clipped bursts. Her hips are moving faster than mine, trying to force the pace, fucking herself on my cock. Her thighs are shaking. Her hands on my biceps have gone tight, nails digging into my skin, breaking it.
“I’ll give you hard after you come this way,” I tell her.
“Ahh… ahh…” And then she’s there, her cunt choking my cock, squeezing in rhythmic spasms. A rush of warm, runny liquid gushes out from where we’re joined.
It pools in my lap, droplets hitting my forearms, my lower abs.
The smell fills the air, sweet and floral and so fucking addictive I want to bottle it.
Her legs shake. Her eyes have gone glassy, and without waiting for more, I haul her up and flip her over the armrest. The strip of lace pulls taut against her hip.
From behind, I see both holes still fluttering, shiny and slick with cum and squirt, blinking open and shut, begging to be filled again.
I line my cock up and slam in to the root. Hard. Fast. No more patience. No more withholding.
I pump and pump and pump with no mercy and no pause. She’s so swollen and sensitive that the drag of my cock through her makes her jerk and squeal, but I don’t slow down. I grind deeper, chasing the way her cunt keeps trying to clamp down and push me out.
I can feel my balls drawing up already, heavy and tight, but I don’t let myself tip over.
Not yet. I want it to build until it hurts.
I rail her harder, the heavy sofa rattles and creaks by how much I’m rutting straight into that soft spot that makes fresh wetness gush around my shaft.
The wet squelch gets louder. Her thighs are trembling so hard I can see the muscles jumping.
“Fuck, look at that,” I growl, voice ragged.
I pull almost all the way out, watching her hole gape and try to suck me back in, then slam forward again.
The slap of skin on skin is filthy and loud.
Precum and her slick mix into a creamy ring around the base of my cock every time I bury myself.
I can feel it. It’s coming, that hot, heavy throb in my balls that says I’m getting close.
I spread her ass cheeks wider so I can watch both holes while I fuck her. Her asshole flutters with every thrust, clenching like it wants attention too. I spit on it, rub my thumb over the tight ring without pushing in, and her cunt spasms hard in response.
My cock jerks inside her, swelling even thicker. I’m right there. That electric tingle racing up my spine, my thrusts are getting shorter and meaner as I chase the high.
I piston faster, grunting with every shove. The need to empty myself inside her turning feral. I reach under her, find her clit, and rub it hard and fast in time with my thrusts. She screams, back bowing, then her cunt locks down and starts milking me.
That’s when I break. I slam in balls-deep, grinding as deep as I can go, and unload with a hoarse shout.
Ropes of cum pulse out of me, flooding her already-slick cunt until it has nowhere else to go.
Until it squirts out around my cock in messy, creamy strings, coating my balls and dripping down her ass crack.
I feel the exact moment she lands. Her body goes from trembling to limp, and her face turns to me. I see her smile before her mouth parts.
“I didn’t know I could finish this way, Kai.”
I don’t say anything. My own release is still working through me.
I’m not back in my body yet. I’m somewhere above this couch, above this room, above this building, an observer disconnected from the wiring.
But what she said, I hold it. I hold it in my chest, plant it there, and I’ll water it until it grows roots.
Because this is what I am now.
Not the revenge for the man who doesn’t want me. Not the name I was born with, and the grave I dug for it. Not the kid who’d find every article with the word Rutherford in it.
Walking Diana into things she’s never let herself have. Watching her step over every line she’s drawn around herself.
That’s my purpose now. Her.
She’s the reason I exist. The only reason I’m breathing.
THE END