Chapter 8 This Little Bubble #3
"That's right," I whisper. “It’s me. I'm touching you. You're touching me. We're sharing this, amor. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
She nods, eyes hazy with emotion. “Yes. Beautiful."
"Just like in the bathroom," I tell her. "I'm gonna touch you—touch your breasts."
She nods. "Please."
I cup a breast, rolling her nipple beneath my thumb; she exhales slowly, shakily, her eyes cutting from mine to where her hand is slowly stroking my length. "Perfect," I whisper. "Absolutely perfect."
I kiss her mouth, and then wrap my lips around her nipple, flick it with my tongue. She jerks, gasping shrilly, her grip on my cock pulsing tight.
"Ohmygod! Ren!" She pants.
I stretch over her torso, bring her far breast up toward me and suckle her pert, tight nipple into my mouth and suck hard on it. Her gasp is loud and wild, and she jerks against me, squeezes my cock again, and then remembers herself and resumes stroking.
This time, her caresses are greedy and needy.
She whimpers as I move back to her other breast, arching to press herself into my mouth, and her fist tightens around my erection, carving down my length and blurring back up, faster and faster.
I manage to keep control over myself for a few more moments, shifting from one breast to the other, licking and kissing and suckling on her perfect, delicious little nipples.
But then I can't function anymore, not with the need rising in me like magma swelling up into the mouth of a raging volcano, threatening to overflow. I rest my face against her breast, gasping soft grunts as she pumps my cock.
"Ren?" she breathes.
I can only manage another grunt, my abs contracting as I start to buck into her fist.
"Are you gonna come?" She breathes. "I want you to come for me. Please, Ren."
"I—" Whatever I was going to say is lost in a ragged groan as my climax rises, rises, and I—lying on my side angled toward her—try to thrust into her touch. "Sophia, oh god. Oh god—don't stop. Please."
She lifts up and wriggles higher, closer to me, presses her body against mine so her breasts crush against me and her thighs press against mine and her hand shifts between our bodies as she continues to stroke me.
Her mouth meets mine, and then all of a sudden it's not just a kiss but a mating of our souls through our mouths, tongues dancing and tangling, all breath and wet lips sliding and turning and seeking more.
I think nothing of it when she tips me sideways so I have no choice but to straddle her hips, so lost am I in the drowning joy of our kiss, in the wild ecstasy of her touch, now gone slow and sensual, delivering long soft caresses of my length, twisting and pumping and then stroking again.
She grabs at my ass, clawing her nails into it and pulling at me, encouraging me to move, to buck, to thrust. On my hands and knees above her, I groan into our kiss, gasping a growl when she sucks my tongue into her mouth, lifting up to press harder into me.
Her grip on my ass releases, becomes a soothing petting caress of one side and the other, of my hamstrings, and then back to my ass for a moment before retreating to grip my cock in both fists.
She pumps my length like that for a while, until I'm thrusting into her fists with rough, animal grunts.
"Oh fuck, Soph!" I snarl. "Oh fuck. I'm gonna come, sweetheart. I'm—you're gonna make me explode, my love."
She palms my balls in one hand and pumps my length with the other, squeezing my balls until I grunt in near-pain, and then releasing.
She does that in time with her strokes, then—squeeze and jerk, release, squeeze and jerk, release.
I've lost all control, now. There's no way to kiss her, or speak, or hold back.
There's only her touch. Only Sophia, giving me pleasure.
Taking it from me. Finding her freedom from the past in me.
"Ren," she whispers. "Now, sweetheart. Let go."
I have no choice but to obey. Her order is the catalyst for my release; her words are accompanied by a renewed frenzy of hard, fast, pumping strokes of my length with one hand, the other gently fondling and massaging my balls, and her lips touch my chin, my jaw, the corner of my mouth, my cheekbones, my closed eyes.
I'm rocking on my hands and knees, bucking wildly into her fist, grunting like a caveman as my climax boils in my balls and burns up my erection.
"Soph—Sophia—fuck—fuck…I'm…oh god, Soph, I'm coming, I'm coming!"
"Watch, Ren!" she cries. "Watch! I want us both to watch me make you come all over my tits."
My eyes fly wide as I realize I'm on top of her, above her, kneeling astride her—I couldn't stop or move in this moment if there was a gun to my head, and I see nothing but arousal in her eyes. Her big, brown, smooth, lush tits jiggle hypnotically as she jerks my length.
"Fuck, Soph," I snarl. "Your tits are fucking perfect."
"They're all for you, Ren," she murmurs. "Paint them with your come, my love. Show me. Show me your fantasy."
"Better—" I grunt, losing my train of thought as I hold back, not wanting this to end. "Better than—oh fuck, I can't—I can't stop it, Sophia."
"Come for me, Ren," She pleads. "Show me, show me how good I'm making you feel. Fucking give it to me, sweetheart."
"Tell me—" I gasp, fucking her fists. "Tell me you—oh fuck, I'm—it's—oh fuck. Tell me you love me, Sophia."
Her teeth seize my earlobe, and then her breath huffs hot in my ear, and her words bathe my soul.
“I love you with all that I am, Lorenzo Oliveira Araujo.
" She cups and squeezes my balls and speeds the slide of her fist down my length to a wild blur that leaves me breathless and arched and frozen as my orgasm reaches the point of no return.
“Now—please, my love, I beg you—come. Come on my tits. Bathe me with your love."
I wrench my eyes open, soak up the sight beneath me: my Sophia, her hair loose in a wild black cloud around her shoulders, eyes burnished and blazing with love and erotic need and sensuality, her big perfect tits jiggling for me as she jerks my cock to completion, mouth open, eyes wide and fixed on my cock.
I fuck into her fist once, hard, and then my climax erupts out of me, ripping a guttural, broken gasp out of my throat. A hot white rope of cum ribbons out of me and lays in a thick stripe across her heaving chest, and she gasps, giggles breathlessly.
"Ren, yes, more! More!" She uses both hands, then, pumping me as fast as her hands can move.
I jerk into her fists, spurting another stream of seed over her breasts.
She lets go of me with one hand and cradles her tits together with the other and arches her chest up high and proud.
She slows her touch, then, going soft and loving and sweet and affectionate, her eyes hungrily watching my cock.
I come hard, again, and the ribbon of cum lays across her tits, coating one nipple and dribbling down the plump round curve toward her diaphragm.
Another spasm wrenches me, another hot line roping out of me—this one with far less force, trickling over her knuckles.
Her expression is one of wonder and joy and arousal, pure and unadulterated and transformative.
This is a Sophia I've never seen—free, full of life and love and joy, radiant and nearly divine, to my eyes.
She continues caressing my cock, pumping my length to milk every last droplet out of me, until her hand is coated and dripping with my seed. Gasping and shaky, I drop heavily to the mattress beside Sophia.
She has a dreamy smile on her face as she holds up her hand, watching my come slide slowly down over her knuckles. She turns her head to look at me, the dreamy, happy smile on her face. "Ren, that was…" she shakes her head. "Incredible. So hot."
I laugh. "You cannot know how amazing that felt for me, Sophia."
She arches an eyebrow. "I had not orgasmed for…well, I don’t even know how long…until a few minutes ago, Ren. I think I do understand.”
"True," I murmur. "But I got all the pleasure out of that."
She returns her gaze to her hand for a moment or two, and then looks at me once more, the smile fading a little.
"I'm…actually a bit shocked at how much I enjoyed doing that," she whispers, her gaze darting away in embarrassment.
"Seeing you lose control, knowing I made you feel that way?
It's not a sexual enjoyment, it's…I don't know how to explain it, Ren.
I…" she's remembering, and becoming mortified.
"The things I said…I don't know who that was. "
"Hey," I say, touching her chin to turn and face mine. "Don't go away."
She frowns. "I'm not."
"No, I mean…the you who said those things, did that to me—for me—don't go away. She's a new version of you, and I have to stay, I really, really like her."
She grins. “Truly?”
"Absolutely." I lean in and kiss her, soft and sweet.
"And not just because of how it felt—which was, I kid you not, the most incredible thing I've ever experienced.
" I cup her cheek, hold her gaze. "You were radiant, Sophia.
Full of light and joy. I've never seen you like that.
I want to see you like that all the time. "
"Radiant?" she breathes.
I can't think of the word I want in English, so I switch to my native language. "Luminous. Free and happy and…" I shrug, go back to English. "Like you could fly."
She shudders, lets out a shaky sigh. "Being able to do that, to share that with you, to experience sexual intimacy again, Ren…
you don't know what it means to me. You just don't—you can't. I feel…
" she sniffles, wipes at her eyes with her clean hand—the other is resting on her belly.
"Like a new woman…like a woman, period. Beautiful.
Worthy of desire. Worthy at all—of anything. " The last sentence is whispered.
"Ohhhh…Sophia. My sweet, beautiful Sophia. You are worthy. So, so worthy."
She lets out a long sigh. "Thank you, Ren. For…well, everything. For loving me the way you do. For being patient with me."
"You said it first, darling: you're the only one."
She smiles at me—a sweet, soft, shy smile unlike any I've seen on her face in all the years I’ve known her. "I'm gonna go clean up."
"Let me," I protest.
She shakes her head, leans over me, breasts brushing my chest, and kisses me. "No. Stay, please." She rolls out of bed and traipses for the bathroom.
"Gotta admit I enjoy the view," I say, admiring the violin curve of her back and the swell of her hips and the taut, round bell of her heart-shaped ass. "A whole hell of a lot."
She grins at me over her shoulder as she enters the bathroom.
She twists on the faucet, but before she rinses her hand, she looks at me, at her hand, and then in a darting movement, she touches her tongue to the mess on her hand.
She makes a surprised face, laughing. "Oh!
It's…" another tiny taste. "Not what I was expecting. "
I laugh. "You're crazy."
She shrugs and washes her hands, and then wets a washcloth and wipes down her chest. Her return walk from the bathroom to the bed is a sexy, alluring saunter. All swaying hips and bouncing tits, pussy playing peekaboo with each step, her eyes on me—hungry, eager.
And exhausted, beneath all that.
I hold out my arm, and she crawls onto the bed and snuggles up against me, pressing her soft, generous curves against me, sighing happily.
"This may just be my favorite place in the world," she whispers, wriggling against me until we're tangled up like cords in a drawer. "Right here, just like this."
"Me too."
I let the silence breathe around us, then.
But I become gradually aware of a change in her breathing—not into sleep, but into panic.
Faster and faster, and her shoulders heave.
"I'm—I'm s-s-sorry," she says through hiccuping sobs. "I d-don't know why I'm—c-crying. I'm so happy, and I…"
I wrap both arms around her and kiss her crown. "Let it out. It's alright. Just let it all out, Soph. Happy, sad, overwhelmed, confused—just feel it."
"I'm so s-s-s-sick of c-c-crying!"
"You've got a lot of overdue crying to get through, I think."
She nods, shaking and shuddering against me.
She cries for a long time—not wracked, violent sobs this time, but soft, quiet tears and delicate shudders.
How long? An hour? More? I don't know, don’t care.
I have my Sophia in my arms. She loves me. We've found our intimacy. Our physical expression of our love.
All is right in the world.
At least, this little bubble of it.