50. Byron
50
BYRON
N ow, I’ve had my fair share of sexual encounters. But that was all they were - sexual encounters. A quick dose of pleasure, followed by a swift exit.
No hanging around to savor the moment, no post-coital chit-chat, and definitely no pondering whether the rush of joy pulsing through me was a wild infatuation going rogue and getting me addicted to the minx.
The next hour felt like foreplay stretched into eternity.
Meg told me to lie back, no, commanded me to lie back. She had created a fantasy in the last few days, and it seemed I was the main star.
My only job was to survive her wrapping her lips around my cock and turning it into a decadent treat, her eyes locked on me the whole time while emitting sounds that would make a stone come.
When she knew I was on the brink and barely hanging on, she slinked up my body and straddled me like a woman who knew exactly the kind of power she held.
Flushed and breathless, she sank down on me, whispering filth in my ear that almost short-circuited my brain.
And then she unapologetically used me to find her own release, and only then was I allowed to have my own.
If this wasn’t paradise, then paradise had some serious catching up to do. All I knew was, there was no way in I could ever let this woman go.
I rewarded her with a fresh shot of Belvedere 10. Her glass pinged mine, and she had this decadent little smile. “So, tell me the story behind the name Aurora.”
“I’m definitely not telling you that now,” I said. “Maybe another time. It’s too sad.”
“Sad stories really turn me on. Especially when they make me cry. Then you can’t cool me down with a firehose--”
And just like that, I was persuaded. “So this man, Barnett, who originally owned this yacht, had a bird, called Aurora.”
“A bird…”
“Not just any bird, one Barnett raised from incubation. A white cockatoo.”
“A white cockatoo called Aurora,” she said, biting her lip. “Cockatoo is a funny name…”
“Are you going to let me tell the story?”
“You have the floor.”
“So, for ten golden years, this man and Aurora went everywhere together. She rode on his shoulder, saw the world the way he did, all wind and waves and wide open sky. One sunny afternoon, he decided to take her out to sea for a little cruise. Then, along came trouble. A cocky seagull landed his ass on the deck like he owned the place. Aurora took one look and liked what she saw. And what do you know, the seagull liked what he saw. In the blink of an eye, the two of them were off eloping into the sky without so much as a backward glance. Some say Barnett spent years drifting across the open sea, scanning the horizon for a flash of her feathers. But she never came back.”
A lovely frown adorned the minx’s face. “That’s not sad at all,” she said. “Aurora flying the coop to be with her soulmate sounds pretty awesome. I was expecting a story involving a scorned lover and someone going missing at sea in the middle of the night, and maybe the lover left behind going nuts and ending up in an asylum for the criminally insane.”
I laughed. “Your imagination is a beautiful thing. That said, let me revise the story…would you like a bit of gruesome violence to feature, or are we just going for soft-core murder and betrayal?”
Her laughter rang through the air. And I watched her, this bundle of joy, casting so much light into my life. In zero point two seconds, I was hard again. “Your laughter is like a mating call. I thought you should know that.”
Which made her laugh even more, but when my mouth traced her skin from the dip in her throat to her stomach, her laughter shifted into soft, pleading whimpers. She wrapped herself around me like a cat, demanding all the attention she knew I’d gladly give.