anything except come , except feel . She couldn’t hear her own incoherent words, or Dallas’ murmurs; she couldn’t feel her fingers or toes, or his muscled arms holding her close and tight. All she felt was pleasure, white-hot, blazing pleasure, and it blasted through her, leaving her shaking and weak in its wake.
When she opened her eyes again, Dallas was looking down at her. He touched her face.
“You here, baby?”
“Yes.”
“OK?”
She nodded, then she felt him inside her. “Dallas… you didn’t come yet.”
He grinned. “Nope.” He pushed her hair back off her face with both hands and kissed her, still hard inside her trembling body. “I want you to give me one more.”
She half-groaned, half-laughed.
“You think you can?” he asked. He started to move again, deeper now, and her hips lifted helplessly to meet his cock. “Can you come for me again, Olivia?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes… make me come again.”
“With pleasure,” Dallas said. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Give me another one.”
Feverish with need now, Dallas withdrew and pushed inside her, slowly at first, thinking she might be too sensitive to take it. But when she arched her back and begged him for more, he held her in place and thrust and thrust and thrust, harder and deeper and faster. Far too soon, her pussy walls started to clench and release on his cock, and he knew that she was seconds away from coming again.
“Jesus Christ, Olivia… you feel so good.”
“Now, Dallas. Now, now .”
She stiffened under him, and Dallas felt her pussy muscles tighten on him, impossibly tight, tighter than he’d ever felt before, and he couldn’t take it any longer. He thrust harder and she moved with him, stayed with him. Her orgasm set off his, and he buried his face in to the pillow and shouted his release, his cock pulsing and straining deep inside this amazing woman.
Nothing better.
When her tears started this time, he did hold her, close and safe. And Olivia shut her eyes, weeping as she fully realized for the first time that she really was going to be OK.
Chapter Seven
For Jenny, February passed quickly. It was a month of surprises, and she mostly surprised herself.
Every morning, she got up and had breakfast with Chris. Every morning, he hugged her goodbye, holding her closer and tighter and longer as the month went on. Most nights, when Jenny wasn't working late, they ate together then spent the evening on the sofa. Talking, watching movies, reading. Jenny was always curled up next to him, held against his body, her head on his shoulder or chest. His warm breath on her skin, his large hands gentle in her hair. And every single night, he hugged her goodnight before they went to their separate bedrooms. She had panic attacks and nightmares, but they were becoming less severe and less frequent.
She simply couldn’t get over how comfortable she felt with Chris’ body in some ways, and how disturbed she was by it in others. Even as she pressed up against it, knowing she was safe, she had the urge to do something risky. She had started to wonder what it would be like to taste his lips. What his naked chest would be like to touch. What it would feel like to sleep next to him in her bed.
From Chris’ side, he was surprised by her every day: her trust in him and her strength astounded and humbled him. Sure, some nights he went back to his room so turned on he had to find a bit of relief on his own in the shower, but even that was OK. It was OK because he knew that they were moving closer to a kiss. Their first kiss.
I’ll wait for that. It’ll be worth waiting for.
One night in early March was when it finally happened, and it took them both by surprise. After all of Jenny's worry about her panicking, and all of Chris' preparation for making the kiss as unthreatening as he could, it happened in the most natural way possible. She simply looked up at him as they watched a movie and he glanced back down at her
When she opened her eyes again, Dallas was looking down at her. He touched her face.
“You here, baby?”
“Yes.”
“OK?”
She nodded, then she felt him inside her. “Dallas… you didn’t come yet.”
He grinned. “Nope.” He pushed her hair back off her face with both hands and kissed her, still hard inside her trembling body. “I want you to give me one more.”
She half-groaned, half-laughed.
“You think you can?” he asked. He started to move again, deeper now, and her hips lifted helplessly to meet his cock. “Can you come for me again, Olivia?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes… make me come again.”
“With pleasure,” Dallas said. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Give me another one.”
Feverish with need now, Dallas withdrew and pushed inside her, slowly at first, thinking she might be too sensitive to take it. But when she arched her back and begged him for more, he held her in place and thrust and thrust and thrust, harder and deeper and faster. Far too soon, her pussy walls started to clench and release on his cock, and he knew that she was seconds away from coming again.
“Jesus Christ, Olivia… you feel so good.”
“Now, Dallas. Now, now .”
She stiffened under him, and Dallas felt her pussy muscles tighten on him, impossibly tight, tighter than he’d ever felt before, and he couldn’t take it any longer. He thrust harder and she moved with him, stayed with him. Her orgasm set off his, and he buried his face in to the pillow and shouted his release, his cock pulsing and straining deep inside this amazing woman.
Nothing better.
When her tears started this time, he did hold her, close and safe. And Olivia shut her eyes, weeping as she fully realized for the first time that she really was going to be OK.
Chapter Seven
For Jenny, February passed quickly. It was a month of surprises, and she mostly surprised herself.
Every morning, she got up and had breakfast with Chris. Every morning, he hugged her goodbye, holding her closer and tighter and longer as the month went on. Most nights, when Jenny wasn't working late, they ate together then spent the evening on the sofa. Talking, watching movies, reading. Jenny was always curled up next to him, held against his body, her head on his shoulder or chest. His warm breath on her skin, his large hands gentle in her hair. And every single night, he hugged her goodnight before they went to their separate bedrooms. She had panic attacks and nightmares, but they were becoming less severe and less frequent.
She simply couldn’t get over how comfortable she felt with Chris’ body in some ways, and how disturbed she was by it in others. Even as she pressed up against it, knowing she was safe, she had the urge to do something risky. She had started to wonder what it would be like to taste his lips. What his naked chest would be like to touch. What it would feel like to sleep next to him in her bed.
From Chris’ side, he was surprised by her every day: her trust in him and her strength astounded and humbled him. Sure, some nights he went back to his room so turned on he had to find a bit of relief on his own in the shower, but even that was OK. It was OK because he knew that they were moving closer to a kiss. Their first kiss.
I’ll wait for that. It’ll be worth waiting for.
One night in early March was when it finally happened, and it took them both by surprise. After all of Jenny's worry about her panicking, and all of Chris' preparation for making the kiss as unthreatening as he could, it happened in the most natural way possible. She simply looked up at him as they watched a movie and he glanced back down at her
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