chapter 34
Gus
“I was serious last night, you know,” Decca said, shutting the bedroom door behind her.
“About the Christmas tree?” I lowered my book. She wore black silk. A tiny slip that barely made it to the tops of her thighs. If she turned around, her perfect ass would peek out the bottom. I was already imagining the feel of those cheeks, perfectly cupped in my hands.
“No. Well, that, too, but about the other thing. The dick thing. I want to suck your dick.”
I couldn’t help it. She was so sincere, so sweet, I burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny.”
“You’re right. I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at...” I shook my head. “My amazingly good fortune.”
She climbed onto the foot of the bed and slowly crawled up to where I was leaned against the pillows. “I think I can take it all.”
Her freshly washed face made her look even more innocent. I loved her big pouty lips painted in her favorite shade of dried blood red, her kohl-rimmed eyes staring up at me with a sultry gaze. But I loved her scrubbed bare face equally.
There were two Deccas.
The mask she wore in public, the one marked by her toughness, her strength, her competence that could cut right through red tape in her work. And the guileless persona she only showed to a lucky few.
Who was I to mar that unblemished openness by refusing her offer?
“You think you can take it, Crow? Are you dying of thirst like the fable?”
Her lips parted at the words. She loved when I called her Crow. That’s exactly what she was, my little corvid, who found an ingenious way to quench her thirst.
“What fable?”
“Once, there was a crow who came across a pitcher of water.” I reached up to toy absentmindedly with her hair, letting her thick black strands cascade through my fingers. “She wanted to drink, but because the water was too low, and the neck of the vessel was too narrow, she couldn’t reach it. Also, she was too short,” I grinned. “So, one by one, she dropped stones into the pitcher, raising the water level higher and higher until she could reach to drink her fill.”
Decca’s eyes grew wider. She nodded slowly. “Mmhmm. Let me drink my fill.”
She rose onto her knees and straddled my lap, settling cozily into my waiting arms, fitting herself against my body like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
“I like it when you use your naughty words.” I grabbed her by the back of her neck, leaning forward to breathe in the lingering scent of her spicy oil and clean skin. I kissed from her neck up, around her jaw, finally reaching her lush lips. Her mouth parted, and I tasted the cinnamon and cardamom from her winter tea. Our mouths danced in a slow rhythm, tongues tasting and tangling as she sank lower on my lap, rubbing against my rock hard cock.
A tortured moan caught in her throat. She reached down, fingers skating across the waistband of my sweatpants. She had to peel herself away from my mouth to look down.
She ran her hand up and down the bulge. The sight of her hand on my cock, her face so eager to please, was almost too much to take. I blew out a breath and ran my hand down my beard. It already felt so good, her sitting astride my thighs, lightly pinned under the weight of her. I could move her easily, sweep her off me and get on top, but I knew she enjoyed this false idea that she was in control.
“You can’t suck it from there, now can you?”
Her lips parted. I felt her hot breath on my lips, like a kiss from afar.
She pulled my waistband down just enough to expose my swollen, reddened head, already leaking. Decca bit her lip. “These need to come off.”
I helped her by lifting up my ass to work my sweatpants down. My cock sprang free, straight up. I resisted the urge to stroke myself. This was about her exploring my body. I’d let her do it the same way she had let me explore hers.
But, goddamn it, she’d better start exploring soon, or I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.
Her hand wrapped around the base. She ringed it tightly in her barely closed fist. God, that sight could make me weep. But then, with her other hand, she stroked my balls, tentatively at first, like she’d never played with a man’s balls before and didn’t know how much pressure to give.
I liked any pressure from her. Her featherlight strokes—the kind where she was just feeling my skin—sent shivers down my spine. Her firm grip was just on the wrong side of too firm and I liked that little hint of pain, too. The kind that made me grit my teeth and suck in a breath while thrusting into her palm.
Just when I thought I was about to come so hard I thought I might have a stroke, she dropped her hands, lowering them to the bed so she was on all fours. She looked up into my eyes as she flattened her tongue against the underside of my cock. I groaned, dropping my head back against the pillows.
“Look at me, Gus. I want you to see who’s making you feel this good.”
“Sweetheart.” I picked my head up, threading my hands into her loose black strands. “The sight of my cock on your tongue is going to make me come so hard I might bruise the back of your throat.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Fuuuuck.” I unconsciously thrust into her waiting mouth.
Closing her mouth over my fat, blood-darkened head, her eyes widened before her lids grew heavy, as if my cock was dripping honey instead of pre-cum. She couldn’t take all of me. I was too big. She was too tentative. I knew she didn’t want to hurt me. As if she could.
But what she lacked in skill, she made up for in enthusiasm, and all of it felt fucking fantastic. She tried bobbing her head up and down quickly. Amazing. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked the head, swirling her soft tongue around the tip. Perfection. Watching my cock disappear inside those pillowy lips was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen. Then she lowered herself down, down, down and took as much of my shaft as she could, gagging herself before pulling back and doing it again. Each time she choked, the spasm massaged the head of my dick. My vision was lost.
I had to reach back and grip the bars of the headboard to keep my hands off her.
It didn’t stop me from thrusting into her, fucking her mouth the way she’d been craving, choking her with my desperate cock until... her hand moved frantically over her breast, teasing her nipple through the silk. It wasn’t enough. She had to touch herself. Had to rub that swollen pussy. God, I loved how turned on she was. It wasn’t just an act to please me, it felt good for her, too.
“Fuck yes, Crow. Touch yourself. Make yourself come with me.”
She didn’t hesitate in her need. Her hand slipped down the negligée and got lost from my view. Her moan when she found the spot did something clear up inside my chest.
“I’m gonna come, baby. I’m gonna fill that pretty mouth. If you don’t want—ah!” My body jerked off the bed as she did something to me. I rode her mouth and held on to the headboard for dear life. But she didn’t falter. She sucked harder, swallowed more, gagged and gagged again. Crying tears even as she against her hand.
The sight of her going wild from this was too much. “Fucking come, Crow,” I demanded, too harshly. An embarrassing lack of finesse.
Her eyes slammed shut as she squeezed sound out from around my insistent dick. My God, she’d really done it. She’d brought herself to orgasm because she couldn’t wait. Panting on my cock, she wrapped her hand—wet from her pussy—around the base, squeezing and holding the foreskin back. The fluid glistened as she used her own lube to swirl around my base. “I... Fuck. Now, baby. It’s coming now.” My ass bucked off the bed and I made an awful noise in the back of my throat. My cock pulsed thick streams of cum like we hadn’t just fucked this morning. My orgasm lasted forever. I couldn’t stop rocking, my whole body pulsing with each heartbeat. I was coming, and she drank down every drop like it was the Blood of Christ and she was on her deathbed.
Time was lost to me. I didn’t even know how long she’d been lying next to me. I flinched when she laid her hand on my chest. Too overstimulated, every hair on my body had extrasensory nerves. Every cell tickled and simultaneously rejoiced.
Damn, my wife ate dick like a fucking porn star.
I wanted to ask her what heavenly realm she’d come from. How could it be possible that a woman so perfect for me could be perfect in that way, too?
Still too bloodless and brainless to talk, we lay there, tangled on top of the quilt, her head now resting on my chest. My heavy hand was on her head, and I made no effort to lighten the weight. Really, I was incapable. I couldn’t move. Not even to blink. Not even to tell her great job on the dick sucking. If a fire broke out, I’d die of smoke inhalation.
My heart thudded slower and slower, less thick, no longer clogging my ears with its rush inside my arteries. Finally, I could breathe again.
Decca nestled closer, tucking herself around my body, draping a leg over my thighs and fingering my not quite soft dick, playing with it, making it hers.
I was thrilled to share.
Seconds ago, my heart had burst from the greatest orgasm my body had ever known. Now it was healed and filling up with something more. Something bigger than blood flowed through its valves and chambers.
Love.
I’d always loved her, of course. I’d loved her as a friend. I’d loved her as a child of God. But as a wife... maybe I’d always loved her like that, too. No, loving her as a wife shouldn’t feel this... crushing. This had to be something else. Something all-consuming. Terrible and disastrous and wonderful all at once. If every man loved his wife this way, the world would stop functioning. They’d never leave their beds.
“I’ve never seen an uncircumcised penis in person. Well, not on a living body.”
“Gross.” I chuckled. “This isn’t the first time you’ve seen my dick.”
“No, but I’ve only seen it when it’s hard and by then, it pretty much looks the same as a circumcised one. I didn’t realize anything was different until George mentioned your foreskin—”
“George did what?” My chest tightened. My mouth dried up. Why was she talking to my brother about cocks?
“I asked Bethany for some pointers, and he chimed in. He did it for her sake, mostly. Those two have an odd idea of foreplay.”
I chuckled. It’s not that I was relieved. I trusted Decca. I trusted George. But hearing my brother’s name as she played with my dick was a little too much... realism.
“Apart from the size, don’t they all look pretty much the same when they’re hard? They all do the same job. Please their partner and please themself.”
“No. They’re definitely not all the same. But yours pleases me.” She snuggled closer.
I kissed the top of her head. “Your vagina pleases me.”
“Did you know vaginas are all very distinctive, too? They’ve taken molds.” She reached across me for her phone. “It’s fascinating. Let me show—”
“Yours is the only one I care about. The only one I want to see.”
She braced her chin on my chest and looked up at me. “Really?”
“Mmm,” I nodded. “You grip me when I’m inside you. Like you have a little… I don’t know… a twist. About halfway up. It feels amazing on the head of my cock when I’m hitting your G-spot, or what I’d assumed is your G-spot, considering the noises you make when I’m there.” I pushed her onto her back, pinning her arms down at her sides. She couldn’t expect to suck me off and I wouldn’t reciprocate.
“Now, give me a taste of that distinctive vagina.”