Chapter Eight
Arielle
Saying it out loud, I feel suddenly shy. But the moment doesn’t last long.
Warmth blossoms in my belly as shot after shot of hot seed floods my pussy.
I writhe, grasping for the cock swinging above me.
With a grunt, Grogoth lowers himself into my mouth.
I cling to his thighs as he bends his knees over and over, fucking down into my throat while the last of his first cock’s seed drains into my cunt with short spurts.
I’m so utterly fucking stuffed. One cock burrows deep inside my cunt with yet another stuffed up my ass, and yet another plunging over my tongue, my body as limp as a wet noodle.
I gasp as his cock swiftly evacuates my throat.
With spaghetti arms, I start wringing it with my hands until the tip is dripping onto my bare chest. I suction my mouth around the tip and suck hard.
When it gives way, he pulses deeper. It takes my last mite of self-control not to move while it drains ropes of hot cum into my throat, so deep I can’t even taste it.
“So sweet,” Grogoth cooed. “Swallow.”
It’s easy to obey, seeing as how his seed keeps coming and coming. I swallow quickly and ready myself for the next burst. At that same moment, the cock in my ass lets loose with another whopping load.
For a moment, I’m nothing but a vessel. His cum fills me and overflows, oozing out around the edges and dripping down my legs, my chest, my neck.
It’s so fucking filthy, and just the thought of how I must look to him, painted in thick white cum, urges on another orgasm.
A giddiness fills my core at the sheer number of times I've climaxed.
The cock in my pussy gives a final trickle and I surrender to bliss as the cocks pump cum inside every possible hole at the same time.
Breathing heavily, Grogoth retreats from my mouth. He falls to his knees and kisses me with the crashing urgency of all the great waterfalls in Hydra, his seed still warm in my mouth.
He lifts me from the ottoman, maneuvering us onto the floor.
Leaning against the couch, he folds me into his arms like I’m a rag doll.
With great care, he removes the cocks in my holes.
With each one, I feel wads of sticky cum run out, coating his thighs, his balls, and the new erection tucked between our bodies.
“Are you sated?” he asks with genuine care in his gentle tone.
“What happened to not being gentle?” I murmur against his neck.
“That’s not an answer.”
I smile, affection blooming in my belly for my gardener. Even in the middle of rough, passionate sex, he tends to my emotional garden.
“More, please.”
He laughs. “My insatiable hummingbird. Let’s clean up, and if you’ll have me, I would love to fall asleep inside your sweet cunt.”
I nod, suddenly aware of how tired I’ve become. He takes me to the bath and showers me lovingly while I cling to his neck, gingerly showing care to my fatigued muscles as he washes away our lovemaking.
I know it might be quick to label this as love, but it feels right in my heart. Somehow, I know he feels the same.
After the shower, he carries me, naked, to my bedroom.
He folds me into his arms, so much larger than me that I basically disappear.
It’s the most comforting feeling, and somehow, the stiffening erection nuzzling between my butt cheeks makes it even more pleasant.
Like there’s a shooting star in my chest, all blazing fire and light.
I peer over my shoulder at him and smile. There’s no mistaking the look he gives me. It’s a look I haven’t seen since moving out of my home territory. It might’ve been my grandmother who’d last looked at me like this, so full of love and cherishment.
“My hummingbird.”
“My gardener.”
The silence between us is louder than a thunderclap and more exhilarating than lightning. He rocks his hips behind me, settling himself between my legs. He eases inside my used and worn pussy, sheathing himself in one slow, swift motion.
This is nothing like the hard fucking we did earlier. His kisses along my neck are tender, his caress like velvet on my bare skin. He hardly moves his hips as he engulfs me like a nesting doll, pure adoration in his every pet.
Cozy and tired, I snuggle deeper into his embrace, his cock massaging my insides in a way that could lull me to sleep.
“Is this what you imagined, when you watched me in the mornings?” I ask, my words laced with sleep.
Grogoth chuckles, the vibration of his chest on my back making me lean my pelvis harder against him.
His arm snakes around my waist, pulling me flush against him and rotating his hips.
The slow, rhythmic massage has moans pouring from my mouth.
The intimacy of this new dance has butterflies in my stomach and a new kind of orgasm, one I’ve never felt before, building in my core.
“There’s not a position I haven’t imagined claiming you, little bird.” He traces my spine with that silky touch, making my whole body tingle. “But I’ll admit, there is more from behind in my imaginings.”
“Stay, and in the morning, you can show me.” My heart thump-thumps. “If you want to, that is. I have a dessert recipe yet to try.”
Grogoth nuzzles my hair, still rolling his hips slowly, lovingly. “There’s nothing I want more in this lifetime than to stay with you."
∞∞∞
I stir from the best sleep of my life. Blinking against lingering slumber, I realize my apartment is dark. No light in the windows, and Whiskers isn’t crying to be fed. What had—
“Mmmmmm.”
I must still be dreaming. I had the most amazing dream, an evening spent with my long-time crush, relentlessly fucking my face. Even now, I’m slick and ready. . .
I reach down. My nails scrape on hard rock, then wiry hair. A textured tongue caresses the closed seam of my pussy. I blink open my eyes and squint. Grogoth is between my legs, the covers loosely strewn over his head to tangle on his horns.
Not a dream, then. He kisses along my seam up to the top, where my bundle of nerves is already swollen. He peers up at me, the look in his eyes simultaneously a question and a plea.
My head falls back on the pillow and I roll my hips to drive him through the slickness he’d caused between my thighs. His sweet kisses transform into something more primal.
His nails dig into the flesh of my hips while he devours me like a scrumptious dessert. He slides a finger inside, sucking and swirling my clit like he could suck my very soul from my cunt.
It doesn’t take long for an orgasm to shatter my existence.
When I’m whole again, Grogoth has climbed over me, resting lightly on his elbows. I giggle and kiss his nose, which then dips to nuzzle my neck.
“Two days ago, I would not have believed I would be here in your bed.”
“Me either,” I agree, allowing him to roll us to the side. He traces little loving lines around my cheek, through my hair, and over my collarbones, while I do the same, exploring each other for the first time. “It’s surreal.”
“Yes. But it is real, hummingbird, and I will spend my days showing my gratitude for you.”
“You can start by making us tea.”
He clucks his tongue, a mischievous grin twinkling in his eyes. “You get your yoga mat and I’ll get the tea.”
My pussy flutters along with my heart and I nod emphatically. He kisses me with a passion I've never felt from anyone before, then rushes to the kitchen.
I laugh at his eager hustle and open my dresser drawer to make the same decision I've made for years. This time, however, there’s an unspoken promise behind it. Instead of stressing over the colors, I opt for a pair of simple black leggings and a sports bra, no panties.
Setting up in my living room, I decide to start with sun salutations, like always. Goddess, I’m excited. To stay body-safe, I’ll need to keep my breathing under control. I’ll have no choice but to not interfere or become involved with his play.
“Here you are, my lady,” he says as he places two teacups on the tea table.
“Thank you.”
For some reason, I struggle to make eye contact. Is it obvious I've been imagining this exact scenario for years?
“What’s on your mind, sweet one?” A firm hand comes to rest on my lower back. He tilts my chin up and searches my gaze. “If you don’t want to—”
I huff a laugh, cutting him off. “The opposite. I want this so much that it might be a little weird.”
A storm billows through his darkened pupils. He runs his hand up to my neck, threading my hair through his fingers in a sinful way, and tugs. I moan as he tilts my head back, my mouth falling open. He kisses me, deep and ravenous, his tongue snaking to my molars.
“Do not be ashamed of your desires, my naughty little hummingbird.” He takes my hand and guides it to the colossal bulge in his briefs. “For I desire them even more—just as you intended by all those torturous mornings in my garden, water witch.”
My core tingles. He’s right. This is exactly what I've been dreaming of.
At my change in attitude, he releases me and sits on the end of the couch, a spot where the tea table won't hinder his view. The butterflies in my stomach flitter about with flaming-hot wings that send my water magic into a simmer. I take a sip of tea before beginning.
I always repeat the sun salutation nine times. Mountain pose. Uttanasana to half forward bend. Plank. Chaturanga Dandasana. Cobra. Downward dog. Forward bend.
Through every step, I recognize the sensual parts of the dancelike flow.
For the first couple of rounds, I force myself not to look his way.
On my third downward dog, I chance a peek.
He’s watching, expression unreadable, erection straining in his underwear.
The tip of his gray cock leaks over his waistband, leaving a little kiss of clear liquid on his navel.
He sits utterly still, one arm strewn across the back of the couch, the other holding a tight fist on the armrest.
By the final salutation, he has repositioned. Perched on the armrest with one foot propped on the tea table, the other grasps his cock over his underwear.