Chapter 24
Something is smothering my face. I open my mouth, and it fills with something soft. I’m basically drowning. I open my eyes along with my mouth to find that my vision is obscured as well.
What in the everlasting tarnation?
There's a meow accompanying this smothering, and as my hands lift upward to wipe my face, I feel Morris.
The position he's sitting in clearly helps me process that it is his whole entire asshole on my mouth.
I bolt upright immediately, spitting profusely.
"Seriously Morris!" I spit again, wiping the hair out of my mouth, crinkling my face.
Turning to my right, Lincoln is lying down on his stomach, his head facing right in my direction, but his eyes are clearly open, or at least half-lidded, with a big toothy grin on his face.
"Did you put him on my face?" I half-laugh in outrage because as mad as I want to be, it is funny.
"Nope. Did that all on his own. I saw one he crawled up there."
"And you didn't think to remove him when he put his fucking asshole on my mouth?!"
"Your mouth was wide open too hahaha." Lincoln bellows with laughter, burying his face in the pillow, cracking the hell up.
Shoving him hard, which makes him laugh even harder, I stand up, swinging my legs over the bed to rush to the bathroom to wash out my mouth with soap and then follow it up with Listerine before brushing my teeth and then repeating the process about three times.
"Fucking nasty!" I say, still hearing Lincoln's laughter getting louder and louder.
"I don't understand what is so funny to you," I call out from the bathroom in the hallway.
Heading back into the bedroom, I see him doubling over, his knees pulled up to his chest on his back, cracking up. Lincoln is shirtless with only his red boxers on, funny enough, the ones that I had given him a long time ago. They're still in great condition, although a little faded.
Unable to help myself from laughing, I launch on top of Lincoln and tickle him. It didn't escape my notice that his morning wood is stretching under the constraints of his red boxers.
My hand wraps around his dick and pulls. "You think it's funny," I say, laughing.
"God don't like ugly. All the torture you put me through, that's what you get."
"You're such an asshole, Link."
"Why does that bother you? Clearly you like assholes since you had one all the way in your mouth for breakfast."
"EEEEWWW! YOU—" I trail off, slapping him on the shoulder and then giving him another slap on the belly.
He grabs my wrists, still laughing, and rolls over on top of me. I try to kick him, laughing myself.
Lincoln counters by letting himself fall flat against me, burying me under his weight, no longer holding my wrists because he doesn't need to.
"You made sure you washed out your mouth good, right?" he asks, a giggle escaping him again.
"Fuck you." I smile, and despite myself, I'm unable to stop smiling.
But the one thing that helps me stop is when he puts his lips on mine, his tongue burying itself under mine before sliding over to cover the top.
My tongue presses against his as our lips close and open around each other's. I am now fully awake, and so is my pussy, as my walls clench in anticipation. Lincoln and I used to have morning sex all the time when we dated and when we were married.
I can feel Lincoln trying to be slick, pulling down his boxers so his meaty dick can rest on my belly.
I know he's been masturbating, although not coming. He's not shied away from that fact to the point where he will sit with his door wide open or on the living room couch, stroking himself when he knows that I am going to walk in and see him.
I had gone over one of the times when he was on the couch and sat between his knees to suck his dick, only to stop when he was about to go over.
"Like I said, you have no self-control," I tease him, my voice light but laced with challenge.
"Do you not want me to come ever again?"
"I want to be the one to make you come," I had said to him earlier, the words hanging between us like a dare.
"All right then, I won't come right now." He smiles at me, pulling me up to kiss me, his lips silky soft.
And so the game of torture continued, but this time both of us found it enjoyable, or at least Lincoln did at first, until it started catching up to him.
And right now, just like he always does, he's trying to trick me into giving in. That's his side of the game. The hunt. Earning my permission and trying to get me to break.
"I know what you're trying to do. Not happening," I whisper against his lips as he continues kissing me, his mouth warm and persistent.
"Not even for New Years Eve?"
"Nope."
"You've been teasing me the last 5 days, and you think it's not going to catch up with you? It always catches up with you. I don't have to come, but please let me stick it in." He begs against my lips, his kisses traversing the underside of my jaw, sending shivers down my spine.
"Mmmm, Lincoln…"
"I know you want to. You see what you don't understand…" Another kiss on the other side of my face before he lifts my shirt and sucks my breast, then gazes into my eyes. "…is that you're suffering as much as I am. How long can you last? Hmm? Biting your nose off despite your face?"
"The point is I have way more willpower than you," I counter softly, smiling.
"All right then, prove it. You asked me to prove it, and so far I have. Every day for me is torture and agony and sore balls."
He doesn't even have to rip off my underwear because I've been sleeping without it, partly to give him easy access with his fingers to see how wet I am so I can torture him some more, and because, to tell the truth…
Well…
I'm in a constant state of horniness that I've always been in anyway, always having to change my underwear. Especially sleeping next to him when his hard-on is pressed up against me.
My ex-husband pushes his penis inside of me, agonizingly slow, nudging itself deeper, parting my inner walls until he can't go any further.
My mouth opens as a choked sound echoes through his bedroom. For some reason, he feels extra thick right now. I want him to keep going. He's pushing in and pulling out so slow that I buck my hips to show him the pace that I want, intervals of half a second, not unlike a bunny rabbit going at it.
However, Lincoln doesn't take the bait and continues with the slow crawl of his inner strokes.
"Mmm," he breathes deep, kissing my lips once more, his tongue sliding over the bottom lip before hooking the tip of his tongue underneath my top lip.
I want to tell him to stop, but I don't really want him to stop. This creeping pace is excruciating. My palms fall flat against his back, my nails gently digging in as I pull him closer, lifting my legs and wrapping them around the back of his thighs.
Moaning, Lincoln picks up the pace but only a fraction.
"Go ahead, baby. Tell me to stop," he teases, his hot breath on my face as he continues to claim me, to dominate me, to prove that his dick is my Lord and savior.
My mouth opens, but there are no words that escape. I need to speak them now.
"I… I'm going to end up coming unless you tell me to stop."
"Don't," I command him unconvincingly, my eyes sealed shut, voice thick and laced with a yearning that betrays every syllable.
"Then tell me to stop," he responds, sounding as if he's fighting his own battle with drawing breath.
His cock becomes harder, slamming into my pussy harder with each stab, causing me to cry out in pain.
"Fuck!" I yell, beside myself, bucking as I feel my orgasm cartwheeling towards the edge.
"Tell me, Gabby! Tell—tell me to stop. I'm going to fucking come if you don't tell me… to stop." His voice ends in a breathless whimper as he continues fucking me hard.
So hard that my tits jerk painfully up towards my head every time he slams into me. Looking down, I can see the ripples on my thighs every time he thrusts inside.
"Oh my God, Gabby." His voice, muffled in my ear, causes me to shiver.
Him being turned on like this, feeling his skin against mine as I get wetter, making it easier for his very hard cock to slide in and out of me, causes a spike in the cadence of my breathing.
Then he slides out completely, pushing himself into a kneeling position before he slaps my breast with a stinging force.
"Ow! Lincoln!"
"How does that feel!?" He laughs as he stands up off the bed, his dick red and angry.
This is annoying.
"I can come. You can't," I smile.
"You shouldn't be able to come either," he banters.
"I'm not the one who ended up in someone else's bed."
"You're going to keep holding that—"
"YES! You keep losing sight as to why you need to be tortured. This is your sentence just to be near me. You deserve this torture. Come on, say it with me." I tease him as I notice him rolling his eyes.
Giving me a reluctant smirk, he then says, "This is my torture."
"Say 'I deserve this.'"
"I deserve this."
"Very good. Why do you deserve it?" I challenge him, lying back on the bed, taking my vibrator and starting the process of finishing myself off as he watches while he stands at the foot of the bed.
Staring at my pussy, his eyes flutter momentarily before he gazes to the ceiling, biting his bottom lip.
"Because I cheated on you," he mutters helplessly.
"Look at my pussy, Lincoln," I breathe through a shaking rasp.
Link grunts with his eyebrows scrunched, he stares at my pussy as I please myself, rubbing the lips as I focus the vibrator on the clit.
"Come here," I order, and he obeys.
He already knows the deal and takes the vibrator and puts it on me, then takes the long end of it and sticks it in.
"I want you to use your fingers," I say, and I close my eyes and open them to see the look of sexual starvation on his face.
Sticking two fingers in with his left hand, he uses the thumb on his right hand to glide over the wetness of my clitoris.
"Why am I torturing you like this?" I ask him again, chest heaving as I get closer to my orgasm. His fingers feel good on me and inside me.