sparked a passion so vast, tenderness
so stark and raw, it moved her to tears. Catherine had the feeling
Joey had never shown another woman this side of himself before. The
trust he placed in her brought a lump to her throat.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. No
rubber, Jesus, what was I thinking?" he said.
Catherine did not want to contemplate the
consequences. She had not thought of it either. She invited him
inside her and she had to admit it was very titillating and
exciting. Apparently there was a shameless wanton living deep
within her. She never would have known if she had not met Joey. The
realization she was not embarrassed or ashamed gave her a sense of
feminine power. So much so that she bent over the table
again.
"Joey, I want more."
He groaned. His breathing was uneven and his
voice deep and dark. "The rubbers..."
"More, Joey."
Catherine moaned as Joey's cock slid deeper
inside her. His hips began the now familiar and powerful rhythm. He
leaned in close to her ear. His breath was hot and sensual and his
words even more so.
"With you, it's never fornicating, or fucking,
or screwing. We make love, Cathy. Love. Remember that."
A choked sob mixed with her whimpers of
desire. He wasn't saying he loved her, surely. She could not think
about his cryptic words now, not when he was so thoroughly
ravishing her.
Catherine did not want to think of
consequences or of time traveling carriages or spilt coffee. She
only wanted to feel Joey's cock inside her. Everything else fell
away. It took a few minutes and she climaxed. A few minutes more
and the splash of his seed filled her once again. The hot rush was
so powerful. It joined them tight. The thread was well knotted now
and Catherine did not think it could ever be broken.
Chapter Twelve
Joey awoke the next morning with Cathy in his
arms. They were naked and lying on their sides. He was erect and
aroused. Cathy’s light rhythmic breathing indicated she still
slept. Joey began to move his hips. She stirred but continued her
soft snores. He reached in under her luscious ass. Joey moaned. She
was wet. He couldn't resist. He laid her leg across his hip and the
head of his prick teased her swollen wetness. With a swift thrust,
he was fully seated inside her.
Cathy gasped and then moaned. "Oh,
Joey."
He began a slow and leisurely pumping of his
hips. They hadn't used condoms at all since yesterday. They were
playing with fire but to him this rubber free union said more than
mere words ever could. They were a couple, solid and connected.
Cathy joined his seductive thrusts and together they came, intense,
but hushed with awe.
Joey lost track of how many times they'd made
love since the wild, table sex. He came so close, more than once,
to laying open his heart and soul to Cathy. The closest he came was
when he mentioned 'making love.' Joey couldn't say the words, 'I
love you'. He had never said those words to anyone in his life. He
didn't know how without sounding like a spazz.
He nuzzled her neck. "Let's head uptown with
the camera and take some pictures, we kind of got sidetracked
yesterday."
Cathy laughed. "Yes, we did, but it was a
wonderful diversion."
An hour later they were in the Old Loyalist
Burial Ground.
A graveyard was a strange place to take
pictures, but it was a memorial park with tree lined walkways and
colorful flower beds. It was a beautiful early autumn day and Joey
had never felt so happy. A cool breeze stirred a few red maple
leaves at his feet. He never owned a camera before. What events in
his life did he experience to take pictures of? There were no
birthday parties, no trips to Mispec Beach for picnics, no
Christmas trees or annoying little brothers or sisters. No new
puppies or a new hockey stick. For the first time in his life he
really wanted these memories. He lifted the Kodak to his eye and
pointed the camera at a laughing Cathy as she stood next to a bed
of multi-colored geraniums.
"What shall I do?" She called
so stark and raw, it moved her to tears. Catherine had the feeling
Joey had never shown another woman this side of himself before. The
trust he placed in her brought a lump to her throat.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened. No
rubber, Jesus, what was I thinking?" he said.
Catherine did not want to contemplate the
consequences. She had not thought of it either. She invited him
inside her and she had to admit it was very titillating and
exciting. Apparently there was a shameless wanton living deep
within her. She never would have known if she had not met Joey. The
realization she was not embarrassed or ashamed gave her a sense of
feminine power. So much so that she bent over the table
again.
"Joey, I want more."
He groaned. His breathing was uneven and his
voice deep and dark. "The rubbers..."
"More, Joey."
Catherine moaned as Joey's cock slid deeper
inside her. His hips began the now familiar and powerful rhythm. He
leaned in close to her ear. His breath was hot and sensual and his
words even more so.
"With you, it's never fornicating, or fucking,
or screwing. We make love, Cathy. Love. Remember that."
A choked sob mixed with her whimpers of
desire. He wasn't saying he loved her, surely. She could not think
about his cryptic words now, not when he was so thoroughly
ravishing her.
Catherine did not want to think of
consequences or of time traveling carriages or spilt coffee. She
only wanted to feel Joey's cock inside her. Everything else fell
away. It took a few minutes and she climaxed. A few minutes more
and the splash of his seed filled her once again. The hot rush was
so powerful. It joined them tight. The thread was well knotted now
and Catherine did not think it could ever be broken.
Chapter Twelve
Joey awoke the next morning with Cathy in his
arms. They were naked and lying on their sides. He was erect and
aroused. Cathy’s light rhythmic breathing indicated she still
slept. Joey began to move his hips. She stirred but continued her
soft snores. He reached in under her luscious ass. Joey moaned. She
was wet. He couldn't resist. He laid her leg across his hip and the
head of his prick teased her swollen wetness. With a swift thrust,
he was fully seated inside her.
Cathy gasped and then moaned. "Oh,
Joey."
He began a slow and leisurely pumping of his
hips. They hadn't used condoms at all since yesterday. They were
playing with fire but to him this rubber free union said more than
mere words ever could. They were a couple, solid and connected.
Cathy joined his seductive thrusts and together they came, intense,
but hushed with awe.
Joey lost track of how many times they'd made
love since the wild, table sex. He came so close, more than once,
to laying open his heart and soul to Cathy. The closest he came was
when he mentioned 'making love.' Joey couldn't say the words, 'I
love you'. He had never said those words to anyone in his life. He
didn't know how without sounding like a spazz.
He nuzzled her neck. "Let's head uptown with
the camera and take some pictures, we kind of got sidetracked
yesterday."
Cathy laughed. "Yes, we did, but it was a
wonderful diversion."
An hour later they were in the Old Loyalist
Burial Ground.
A graveyard was a strange place to take
pictures, but it was a memorial park with tree lined walkways and
colorful flower beds. It was a beautiful early autumn day and Joey
had never felt so happy. A cool breeze stirred a few red maple
leaves at his feet. He never owned a camera before. What events in
his life did he experience to take pictures of? There were no
birthday parties, no trips to Mispec Beach for picnics, no
Christmas trees or annoying little brothers or sisters. No new
puppies or a new hockey stick. For the first time in his life he
really wanted these memories. He lifted the Kodak to his eye and
pointed the camera at a laughing Cathy as she stood next to a bed
of multi-colored geraniums.
"What shall I do?" She called
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