Chapter 10 #2
into me so hard that I swear I feel my spine embedding into the
floor, yet the pleasure that he’s creating inside of me is so
beautifully fulfilling that I want to scream at him to go harder.
Grunts, moans, and
wet, slapping flesh. His balls hitting my backside and my fingers
working at my own slickness.
It’s insane,
crazy, wild, and uninhibited fucking.
It’s
spectacular, and I can’t hold back anymore. “I’m
going to come, Zach.”
He grunts deeply
and, impossibly, he goes just a little bit faster, chasing after his
own release.
Slamming into me one
last time, Zach goes utterly still and throws his head back, causing
his long, dark hair to spill down his back. “I’m fucking
coming,” he groans as every muscle from his neck downward
tightens.
The utter and divine
pleasure painted across his face is my undoing, and I fracture right
along with him. My hands fly upward and grip onto his biceps, my
nails biting down into his flesh, and my entire body stiffens rigidly
for a brief moment, then releases into an epically massive orgasm
that tears through my body almost painfully.
It occurs to me that
Zach just made me orgasm three times in less than an hour, and yet,
we’ve never even kissed. Hell, we never even got fully
naked—the biggest concession he was willing to give was in
pulling my underwear free of my body. Zach has eaten me out twice,
producing massive, rolling orgasms, and yet I’ve never felt
those full lips upon my mouth.
This is just weird…
the way our sexual relationship has progressed, but then I realize
that I moved forward on his terms, not on my own, which are rooted in
a culture that typically starts the foreplay at a kiss. Zach’s
foreplay starts with a solid grip to the back of the neck.
Fascinating stuff,
yet ultimately wasted knowledge from a scientific perspective,
because I could never publish this research.
After Zach came down
off his orgasmic high, he pulled out of my body slowly and stared at
me a moment. Reaching a hand out, he rubbed his fingers lightly over
my lower stomach, and then said, “I’m going to go take a
shower.”
He stood up without
another word and walked down the hallway to the guest bathroom,
shutting the door quietly behind him.
I roll over and pull
my knees up underneath me, pushing my way off the floor. I groan from
the stiffness in my neck and hips, testament to the not-so-gentle
pummeling Zach just gave my body. I bend over and grab my panties,
then head into my own bathroom as his semen trickles down my legs.
Another keen
difference in our cultures. I observed the way Zach had fucked
Tukaba. It was impersonal… devoid of emotion and feeling. It
was a convenient way for him to seek release, all while flexing his
superior man muscles in front of his tribe mates. When he was
finished with her, he pulled out of her and walked away, leaving her
lying prostrate in the dirt below him. Given that cold barrier that
seems to exist between Caraican women and men, it’s no wonder
that Zach just pulled out of me and walked away. I can’t
imagine a man like him being into after-sex cuddling.
And that makes me
sad. Because while every bit of the dominance that Zach has asserted
over me pushes all of my buttons in just the right way, as a woman…
as a modern woman who embraces the emotional side to the act of sex…
a warm embrace of care and tenderness is something that I’m
keenly missing right now.
Turning on the
shower, I wait until the water gets hot and step under the spray,
wetting my hair thoroughly. I go through the motions of shampooing
and conditioning my hair, then give myself a thorough scrubbing with
some gardenia-scented body wash and a loofah sponge.
There was a time
that Zach looked at me a bit ago, and I swear I thought I saw
something in his gaze that looked like fondness. It was such a
contradiction to the arrogant face he normally shows me, and it gave
me hope that maybe this was more than just a one-time only thing.
And it was more than
once—three times by my count.
But the way that
Zach just abruptly stood up and walked away? So cold… so
uncaring of the intimacy we had just shared. Now I’m not so
sure what he feels, and unease courses through me.
I hastily soap down
the rest of my body, wincing slightly at the tenderness between my
legs, but then shuddering in remembrance of Zach’s time well
spent there.
With a confused
sigh, I rinse off and step out of the shower. I give my teeth a good
brushing and quickly dry my hair to where it’s only slightly
damp. Back in my bedroom, I put on a cotton cami top and a pair of
loose pajama pants and crawl into bed.
As I start to get
drowsy, I remember just before we left the Caraican village, as Zach
made his goodbyes. He had done nothing but glare at me every time we
made eye contact. Yet, there was a world of warmth in his eyes as he
grasped each of the men’s arms, and then finally wrapped
Paraila in an embrace. He tucked the old man’s face into his
chest and hugged him tight. Tears sprang to my eyes, as I knew how
very bittersweet that moment was for Paraila.
Then Zach ruffled
all the kids’ hair, bending down to accept a necklace from one
little girl. He smiled at the women, his eyes lingering on Tukaba for
a moment longer, then turned and walked away.
So, I know that Zach
has depth of emotion. He showed it to me when he was walking away
from all that was dear to his heart. I saw pain and love on his face.
I recognized it in the way he held Paraila.
Zach has plenty of
feeling; it’s just apparently not something he has for me at
this moment. I think at this point… it’s safe to say
that maybe my body was nothing more than a vessel by which he could
release himself into.
That shouldn’t
bother me… not really.
But damn it all to
hell… it does.