Abby #3
With the plug and his fingers scissoring inside me, stretching me open and pressing into my G-spot every few strokes, I can barely think, let alone answer him.
“No,” I gasp. “Not the toy. I mean, mostly not the toy…it was—”
“Hmm? What was it?”
“It was you with the kids!”
His hand stills inside me, thick fingers perfect yet not what I wish I was clenching around as I ride the orgasm that’s been building for longer than I realize.
When I finally come down, aftershocks violent as he removes his fingers and licks them clean, I realize the ride’s stopped.
A brief message plays that we’ll be moving shortly and to stay in the vehicle.
Methodically, Misha pulls himself out of his shorts and boxers.
I can barely see him, but his face is serious, as if he’s performing an incredibly important task.
He pulls me up to straddle him, wrenching my useless panties even farther to the side, and buries himself to the hilt in one smooth thrust. A vague portion of my brain warns me that we shouldn’t be doing this, that there could be people and cameras and arrests for public indecency in our future.
But Misha’s in charge. He wouldn’t let that happen.
He also isn’t thrusting, and I whine my displeasure as he presses his nose into my neck, breathing deeply.
“It was me with the children, Abby? That’s what made this perfect cunt drip for me? Watching me with them?”
“Yesss,” I hiss, and he rewards me with a few lazy thrusts. He’s so strong, moving me up and down his cock all on his own, which is good. I don’t think I could ride him right now if he begged me to. I’m too drunk on lust, on him.
“Mmm. And did you like it when you finally forced my hand? When you made me spell it out for you? That you’re the only one I’ll ever be putting babies in?”
“Fuck,” I whine.
“Or is it the fact that I’d gladly start right fucking now that’s got you weeping for me?”
I’m well beyond coherent thought, nothing but one long, uninterrupted wave of pleasure as he continues his maddening pace. I think he’s matching it to the pulses of the plug, thrusting then grinding my clit against the rough hair at the base of his cock.
“Did you want to hear that when you called me Daddy in that bratty little tone of yours, I almost came in my pants? When you’re pregnant with my baby, Abby, you’ll be too tired to be such a naughty girl.”
His patronizing tone pushes me over the edge, and he groans into my mouth, cruelly taking it as if to punish me even as he sweetly fucks me.
“I could tell you how much I imagined another little girl in a poofy dress with gray eyes and red curls, or your perfect emerald eyes and my dark hair. Maybe I could fuck twins into you, and we could have one of each, hmm?”
“Yes, please. Anything you want. Just, please.”
“Please what, baby?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know…” And I don’t know. I need something but I don’t know what it is.
“Shh, sweetheart. I know what you need.”
Thank God.
“You need me to fill you up, don’t you?”
His thumb sneaks between us to swirl against my clit, and as his thrusts and grinds become less coordinated, I sense that he’s hurtling us both toward a peak.
“Yes, please. Please fill me up.”
“Why? Why do you want it, Abby?”
“I…”
“Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll always give it to you. But you have to tell me.”
The answer appears before me as if divine, and I scramble to tell him so I can have my reward.
“I want your cum so I can give you a baby!”
“Fuck!” he roars, joining me in ecstasy and flooding me with his release. Even as he fills me, he can’t stop talking. The floodgates opened today into his deepest fantasy.
“I’ll keep you full, baby,” he whispers. “My good girl, taking me so well. I’m so happy you want my children, Abby. May they all look just like you.”
At that, I take offense.
“Mmph. Little boy…your eyes. Black curls…”
Even though I’m lacking eloquence, he gets the message, kissing my temple as he rummages in his backpack.
“Alright, lesnaya. I can concede that. As long as all the girls look just like you.”
By the time the ride starts moving again, I’m sitting primly in the ride vehicle, as fresh as a daisy and with new panties. The backpack is bigger than I gave it credit for, and it seems this entire stoppage might have been pre-planned.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that an expert hacker may have owed me a favor.”
“You could have told me that. It would have at least reassured me that we weren’t about to start moving again and given a ton of people a show they didn’t pay for!”
Laughing as we walk through the ride’s gift shop, he pulls me toward a display.
“You weren’t worried about anything there for a while. Don’t even try to pretend. But I don’t want to get too far before we find the perfect thing to commemorate the occasion.”
Realizing that we’re in front of a giant wall of fridge magnets, I lean into Misha’s embrace. Looking up at him, I pout for a kiss, and he teases me with a peck.
“I do have a real concern, though,” I say seriously, furrowing my brow for emphasis.
“What?”
“We’re going to need a bigger fridge.”