Hours #2
“Here.” Genesis reaches over and pulls free the silk cords that have my legs and arms bound. “You can move on me better this way,” he whispers.
Arms free, I instantly hug him hard, loving the safe pressure of his arms, the way his weight is on me from the waist down, but how he holds himself off my chest. I move against him easily, finding pleasure in the fullness, an orgasm rocketing toward me as the thin wall between my openings is pressed and squeezed, every inch of me packed full of cocks, toys, and tails.
“Ooh, my mate is about to come on me.” Genesis’ voice is so pleased. “And once you do that, do you know what I’m going to do?”
My belly is fluttering, and my walls clench on him, rocking hard as his thumb finds my clit and rubs it with the perfect pressure that only he seems to deliver.
I never answer because my climax hits and leaves me with my jaws clenched and spine rigid as tremors wrack me from the hips down.
Genesis waits until the first rush of pleasure is over and pulls the toy from my bottom. He lifts my blindfold and kisses me, lining his bulbous tip up with my hole. “I’m going to fuck your perfect little ass.”
My eyes are still adjusting, so he’s a hazy blur at first, a shadowy beast in a halo of light from the bedside lamp. I watch his eyes widen, then shudder closed as his tip works into my much tighter opening, his thick, slick precum easing the way.
“Ohhh. Oh, oh, honey... easy,” I caution, but I’m not in any pain. I’m actually surprised how easily he fits—but he can’t go far. “A few inches is all I can take,” I warn.
“I think that’s all I can give,” he whimpers. “So tight, precious. Like a vise.”
“Your fault. You’re so big.”
His talons dig into my ass cheeks, and he sits back. I want him back with me, but I bite my lip and wait, eyes unfocused with orgasmic aftershock.
“Your little hole is all pink and stretched around me.” He grunts and pushes in more. I whimper. “Sore?”
“It will be after. Don’t stop.” I don’t want him to stop.
I just... I want to be his plaything. I let sensations wash over me as he goes in a little deeper, and my muscles fight back, wanting him out.
We both moan at the sensation of my walls gripping and wrestling with his cock.
His talons move back to my slippery pussy, his thumb on my clit while he lodges four inches of massive gargoyle cock in my ass.
I don’t know what kind of orgasm this is, but I’m having one. One that’s deep and confusing, based more on fullness and satisfying stretch than the hard, sharp, clear pleasure of his fingers on my clit.
And I have both. I have both. I’m so lucky...
“Can I come inside of you?” Genesis asks for permission.
“You get to do whatever you want,” I remind him.
“I want to come inside you, fill every hole on our honeymoon.”
“God, yes. Yes! It’s... It’s happening.” My voice is low and shaky as the strange, delicious spiral of pleasure keeps building until it bursts—and he bursts with it, thick cream pulsing into me.
“Melinda,” he whispers, easing out slowly.
My face is flaming as his eyes latch onto my gaping back door, so stretched that his offering can’t help but flow out.
“I’m a mess.”
“You are incredibly sexy and gorgeous and full of me.” His voice becomes a growl, and his face presses to mine. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re mine.”
“Mmm, me, too.”
“And I can’t wait until it’s my turn,” he whispers, “to be your plaything.”
We’re still cuddling when my phone chirps. Ten minutes until it’s my turn. “I’ll be back. You stay there.”
WE TAKE TIME TO WASH off and clean up, and I straighten out the bed when Melinda stays in the bathroom for longer than I do.
I don’t know what more Melinda could possibly give me, not after sharing every bit of herself with me. She’s a treasure.
“You know how you told me gargoyle females use their tails, too?” she calls softly as she steps from the cabin’s bathroom, covered in a honeymoon robe, white and lacy.
“I don’t worry about that. I didn’t marry a gargoyle female; I married you,” I point out.
Melinda comes closer to the bed, and her robe falls open.
My mouth follows suit.
My wife, my petite, pretty little wife in her white lace, is sporting a thick black toy over her curls and a harness that’s made of black stretchy-looking straps.
She looks like something out of an X-rated film, not that I’ve been looking.
“What did you... Where did you...?” I trail off. Can’t make more words, but my cock is speaking for me, rising up like an amorous periscope while Melinda sheds her robe completely and strokes the thick, rubbery cock she’s wearing.
It’s hot and confusing, and I know exactly why she’s wearing it, and that touches me and excites me at the same time. She wants to give me what she cannot naturally provide, tailless as she is.
“You’re all mine for this hour, Genesis,” she whispers, running her hands over my chest.
“Uh-huh,” I choke out.
“But you can tell me if you don’t like this.”
“I like it!” I practically shout.
Melinda chuckles. “I’m afraid I’ll be a little clumsy at first—especially since even standing right now is an effort—”
“I’m sorry! Sit, love.”
“Sitting isn’t going to happen yet, either,” Melinda chuckles and waggles her hips seductively. “But I know how much my fingers do for you.” Her lips graze my ear. “I think my cock could do even more.”
I think I’m going to faint from anticipation, which would waste precious minutes of these sweetly sinful stolen hours.
“Well, first, I think you ought to get your bride ready to give you the pleasure you deserve,” she whispers, taking my hand and leading it to her toy appendage. “Stroke that, just the way I stroke you. The way you stroke yourself. I want to see it.”
“But you can’t feel it,” I point out, even though I’m already gently wrapping my talons around it, making sure I don’t scratch the velvety soft texture of its surface.
“I can see it. I can see you,” Melinda purrs. “I’m already getting close just watching you touch me.”
“Kinky little bride,” I hum, and it’s praise. If she hadn’t been willing to push the boundaries of usual human relationships—and if I hadn’t been willing to admit that certain humans, well, one at least, my Melinda, was a treasure—we wouldn’t have ended up together.
“Kinky gargoyle groom,” she counters. “Now get that nice and ready. I don’t want to waste a second of our hour.”
She looks incredibly hot like this, beautiful breasts with a shimmer of perspiration from her round as my personal plaything, hair unbound and falling over one shoulder, and a certain glint in her eye as she watches me.
My talons stroke up and down the surface, one fist on her toy, and one hand dripping between her thighs to feel her soaking pussy.
Melinda moans as my fingers sink into her and my fist starts to move faster. I look up at her adoringly, watching her eyes flutter closed, feeling her hands brace on my shoulders. “Stop,” she moans. “This is about you, not me.”
“All of these moments are for the two of us.” I bow my head over her, thinking for a second, determining if I’m comfortable with the idea.
If Melinda were a gargoyle with a tail, I would catch the tip and kiss it, I would suck it into my mouth, slap her rump, and nibble on her wings.
I would do those acts because all of them would be natural and would bring her pleasure.
But we are “unnatural,” as in not of the same kind, and our bodies barely match.
But we do, and we prove endlessly that love takes so many forms. If this toy is the replacement for a tail that the Creator did not gift humans with, then that’s okay.
And I’m okay with loving every inch of everything Melinda uses or wants to give me.
I bob my head down and kiss the tip, tongue snaking over soft silicone, making Melinda gasp. I can feel her juice literally dripping into my palm as I pull her hips close to my mouth. “You can do what you want,” I remind her softly. “I don’t mind.”
“It’s not too weird? The mouth part, I mean,” she strokes my hair.
“If you had a tail, love, I would touch it and tease it every day. This doesn’t bring you pleasure from touch, but when you wear it—”
“Oh, I’m thinking about how it’s going to feel when I’m making you come, Genesis. And you can feel what that does to me.”
“Good. Then it’s not weird, sweet little bride.”
“Good.” Melinda’s tender fingers turn more forceful, and the gentle touch turns to a grip that guides my head.
It’s a surprise how easily my mouth pops open, my lips part, and the toy slides in.
I close my eyes and feel her hips bouncing towards me, feel how thick the rubbery, firm cock is in my mouth, and picture how good it’s going to feel invading other parts of me.
Melinda huffs softly above me, and I look up, watching her breasts bounce and her face tighten.
Almost like she’s going to come from just watching me please her like this.
Then I’d better do a good job.
I groan around the cock and move my head harder, faster, my fingers still in her dripping slit, moving them in time with my mouth.
I want to make her come again. I want to show her how amazing she is, how special she is to think of this game for me.
“No,” Melinda hisses, pushing me back, hand gripping my hair a little too hard—and I can’t deny I love the little zing that shoots down my spine at her control. “I’m going to come the way gargoyles do, Genesis. With your tail in my pussy, buried in your tight ass, with my hands on your cock.”
“God, Melinda,” I can barely gasp out as she flattens me to the bed. She leaves me breathless, erotic images painted in my mind as she steps between my thighs, so much smaller, but looking so determined.
Melinda snuggles up close, her toy cock against my thigh, her body bowing briefly so her mouth can capture my cock.
For several seconds, I’m lost in ecstasy while her mouth dances on me and her fingers stroke down between my cheeks, honing in on the tight ring of flesh that opens easily for a female’s tail—or fingers.