by Vivien Vale
“Why don’t you use your mouth this time?” Rose grins and pushes my head between her legs, and hikes herself up on the window so that she’s sitting on my face. Fuck, she’s like a wet dream come true.
In good position now, I rake my tongue across her clit and swollen pussy lips until she moans wildly with pleasure.
I swirl my tongue around, working hard and reciting the fucking alphabet on her clit until she violently shakes on top of me, coming again in record time.
She’s out of breath, glistening in the afterglow of two intensely erotic back-to-back orgasms, and my cock is as hard as a fucking rock.
Rose stares down at it and grins with mischievous flare. “Now,” she whispers seductively like the naughty girl she is, “I want to return the favor.” She pushes her index finger into my chest.
“Okay. No arguments here.” I grin, desire clouding my mind with fresh, insatiable lust.
“Wait!” I halt Rose right before she opens her mouth as wide as she can to swallow me in one bite.
“What is it?” She appears alarmed.
“Um…I need a condom…” I wince and trail off. I mean, do I really? I don’t know.
I should be able to come in her fucking mouth, right? Not like I’m going to knock her up like that.
At this point I’m starting to wonder if it is just all in my head. Pun intended.
“Okay.” Rose sighs and I can tell she’s trying not to make me feel even more uncomfortable than I already am. “Go and get one, if you need it.”
In that case, I whisper a quick apology into her ear and jog to my bathroom where I fumble quickly through the cabinets, finding one at last and retrieving it in a swipe.
I run back to Rose, ready and lured in by her cinnamon eyes. “Okay, I’m ready now.”
Rose
I think he misunderstood my intention.
My bad. I’ll give him a blowjob later.
But now that he’s armed with a condom, we better get right down to business.
With the lights of the city behind us, I sit on the window ledge and spread my legs for him. I’m his for the taking.
Of course I’m having a little trouble concentrating on the sex. His condom problem is, well, kind of unnerving.
Part of me wants to rush off and consult Dr. Google. I mean, if anyone can offer help, it’s the great search engine of the Interwebz.
I bet if we type in need help to get rid of need to wear condom during sex all the time or some similar shit, there’d be thousands of returns. Admittedly, it would not be in the millions, but how many different ways do you need to read about solving the same problem, right?
I’ve never understood why you get like a bazillion search results when you search for something.
What’s the point? Two or three pages, about thirty results, would be just fine. I hardly ever get to page two on search results.
Anyway, I can’t help but think Daniel might be stumbling around in the dark about his problem because he doesn’t actually want to find a solution.
It’s pretty obvious to me. With so many women wanting to have his child and openly talking about it on any social media outlet that will let them, I’m surprised needing to wear a condom during a pussy fuck is his only problem.
I guess I should be grateful he’s still able to fuck. It would be so much worse if he couldn’t do it at all. Sex with condom is better than no sex and no condom.
The thoughts are getting me confused right now.
I’m so distracted I don’t realize at first that Daniel is pulling me off the ledge and toward the ultra-comfortable, super-soft leather lounge.
It’s the kind of lounge you never want to leave once you’re sitting on it. As he pushes me onto it, I sigh.
Instead of lying on my back and facing him, he rolls me over so I’m face down. I push myself up on my arms and present him with my ass. Part of the reason I do this is I fear I may just fall asleep on my tummy on this gorgeous couch.
Daniel rubs my ass and lets his fingers go down to my pussy. The tip of his cock is poking at my cheeks.
Without any command from me, my ass is pushing toward him, begging him to enter me. But Daniel’s quite content to play with me.
His fingers tease my clit and draw little circles all around it, touching it only every now and again.
I push against him again and lower my upper body a little.
This man is a fucking expert at pleasuring me and driving me insane with desire. If he doesn’t push his massive cock into me like right fucking now, I might die from anticipation.
Why a man with his skill level has any kind of sexual problem is beyond me.
Is needing to wear latex even a sexual problem? I don’t think so. Like even saying sexual and problem in the same sentence when referring to Daniel is totally an oxymoron.
Yeah, so not a sexual problem. Sounds totally like a psychological problem to me, though. I mean, I’m no fucking psychologist, but I know most problems as far as sex is concerned are psychological.
My grandma was a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a fertility problem. If a couple can’t conceive, it’s because they’re too stressed about wanting or needing to have a baby. I don’t know about all that, but you get my point.
Wanting a baby. I so want a baby. Daniel’s baby.
There’s no doubt in my mind now.
But if I’m going to have his baby, he’s gonna need to have sex with me without a fucking condom.
Could I manipulate the condom beforehand? Would he notice if I prick a tiny hole into? Would a tiny hole be enough for the sperm to fit through?
Argh. What the hell am I thinking? I’m starting to sound like his crazy, obsessive ex-girlfriends or wannabe girlfriends on social media.
But what will we do about it?
So many fucking questions and so few answers.
Suddenly I wish I didn’t know about his problem, although no—no, I definitely need to know about it.
It puts our whole fucking bargain at risk.
Um, if we ever actually make the deal, that is.
I feel my own juices being spread between my legs and on my ass, and I push all these thoughts away to focus on what’s really important here—Daniel fucking me.
I close my eyes. Wherever he touches me, he leaves a trail of burning desire. The ecstasy is building in me, rising to a crescendo.
And then without further warning, the tip of his cock is hovering at my pussy.
My hot cunt grabs for the object of its desire, but he’s not quite in far enough for there to be success. My hips thrust back toward him, and slowly, the tip of his cock pushes into me.
My back arches, and my tits dangle below me. I wish his hands would cup them, play with them, and squeeze them, but right now he’s digging them into my ass.
I throw my head back and look over my shoulder.
Little beads of sweat roll down his chest. While I can’t see his motor neurons, I know they must be working at maximum capacity―his abdominal and chest muscles contracting and relaxing in rhythm with his pelvic thrust.
Wow.
I can’t believe how fucking good-looking he is—sexy as hell, really, particularly when he’s fucking me like this, doggy style. I fucking love it.
Mesmerized, I watch his left hand leave my ass and reach for my tits. He first pinches and squeezes my left nipple before moving on the right one. Since they’re both for the taking, he wastes no time in giving them the attention they deserve.
Over and over, I replay his words of not being able to fuck without a condom. It seems so strange―and I can’t help but wonder if he’s got another agenda.
But what exactly that could be is beyond me.
Is he making up the condom story so I won’t get pregnant? But what would the advantage be to him? Why would he do it?
I can’t see any fucking reason for stringing me along that way. If he doesn’t want to go ahead with the deal, then he could just come out and say so.
&nb
sp; It’s not as if Daniel has a shortage of women. He doesn’t need me. Any number of chicks out there would trade places with me right away, I know that for damn sure.
I feel him increase his speed. I listen to the sound his balls make as they hit against my naked ass cheeks. It’s a kind of splat sound.
Splat. Splat. Splat.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Me. Me. Me.
I push against him to increase the sensations.
By now, I’m crazy horny and not far from coming—again. I can’t believe he can make me come so many times in one night.
Previous boyfriends barely managed to get me to come at all. Sometimes I’d fake my own orgasm, just to make sure they got their ego boost. Imagine if you let a guy know he didn’t make you come.
Not Daniel, though. No faking for this man. Actually, he’s more like a Greek or Roman sex god, that’s how fucking good he is.
What starts as a tiny flicker of pleasure in my belly soon grows into a raging fire of desire. Where his hands touch my body, he leaves scorch marks, and his cock inside my pussy is sheer rapture.
With each inward thrust, the walls of my pussy contract around his growing cock. How his cock can still be growing inside my tight space is beyond me, but it sure as fuck does.
Tiny fireworks go off inside my pussy as he thrusts harder and faster.
When eventually I lose myself in my orgasm, wave after wave of pleasure rips through me and threatens to drown me.
My muscles contract and relax in rapid succession, threatening to fucking strangle his cock.
When I feel his grip tighten around my tits and ass, I know he’s about to come himself. Briefly, his body stiffens before he explodes his load into his condom.
After a while, I relax my arms to lie down. He stays on top of me and inside of me.
I feel him kiss the back of my neck before he starts to nibble and suck on my ear lobe.
“Sorry,” he whispers into my ear, and I say nothing.
What can I say? Before I know what to do with the information about the condom and Daniel, I need to come to terms with it myself.
Right now, it’s too hard to think about and work out exactly what it means. And of course I want to do my own research on the matter to see what kind of solutions other people offer on the matter.
If one thing is certain, it’s that Daniel is not the first or only guy with this kind of difficulty, and somewhere will be a solution.
I feel him roll off me and snuggle into my back. I make room for him and just lie there.
“It’ll be alright,” he says, and now I turn to look at him.
“Of course it’ll be alright,” I confirm with a smile. Because no way am I letting this guy go.
In fact, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if having a baby with him is even on the top of my list.
If it came down to it, what would I choose? A baby? Or Daniel?
Daniel
It seems as if she’s taking the news well. I mean, so far so good. She didn’t turn and run. She stayed and let me fuck her.
I play with her hair as we lie entwined on the couch.
My legs are wrapped around hers, and her back pushes against my chest and abdomen.
I’m surprised at myself. It had been easier to confess my problem than I thought.
Once I felt those cinnamon eyes on me, filled with understanding, it just came out.
Of course. I could see the disbelief in her eyes as she listened to me, but there was something else there as well.
I think it was compassion―a genuine desire to help and make the issue go away.
The sort of quality you want in a mother.
Mother.
I roll the word around my mouth for a bit, tasting it, exploring it and combining it with her name.
She’ll make a great mother. From what I’ve seen so far, she’s natural mom material. I’m not sure how I’ll go myself, but Rose will do the perfect job.
There’s a little inward chuckle as I mentally write a job description for a mother.
Wanted—woman of many talents.
To fulfill this role, you will need to have eyes in the back of your head, be able to cope with little sleep, settle disputes with minimal resources at the drop of a hat, be prepared to be challenged, and be available twenty-four seven with no holidays ever.Management skills are essential, as is the ability to attend to any emergency whatsoever and to be on call at all times. There are no leave entitlements and the contract is for life.
If you are interested, call here.
Would Rose have applied if she’d read my job ad?
I bet most of the those women on those social media sites wanting to have my baby would have second thoughts if it were put to them like this, too.
Rose turns toward me, and I feast my eyes on her tits. I love her pink nipples. They jut out and are the soft pink you would use to paint the bedroom of a baby girl.
Fuck, I really do have babies on the brain. When the hell did that happen?
“And…” she says as she strokes my chest. I watch her finger draw little circles and swirls on my skin. Her touch is gentle, and it leaves me burning with desire.
“And what?” I laugh. If I’m supposed to know what she’s asking, I haven’t got a fucking clue.
“And what now?”
I’m not sure if that’s really what she was going to ask, or if her real question is left unasked. I get the impression there’s more hidden in that ‘and’, but she’s not sure how to put it.
“How about a little drink?” She bats her eyelashes at me.
There’s no saying no to that.
I untangle myself from her beautiful curves and head over to my little built-in bar. It takes me no time at all to prepare two glasses for a cocktail.
Rose joins me, and I feel her hands on my back and around my waist. My body is enveloped with warmth, and my cock is stirring again.
This woman has a magic touch. She seems to be able to snap her fingers and, click, my body responds.
“Cocktail?” I ask and try my hardest to concentrate on what I’m doing. It is becoming increasingly difficult to think straight with her hands all over me. If I’m not careful, my brain will stop working and leave my cock in charge.
“Yes please,” she murmurs and licks her lips. Her fingers by now are stroking my growing cock, feather-like. Her touch is so soft, I have to check if she’s using her fingers and not blowing her warm breath on it.
Fuck. I’ve dropped an ice cube.
“Oh, thank you.” She chuckles and picks it up. “Crumbs from the Sire’s table. We’re being generous today,” she quips. “Shall I put it in my mouth and hold it open to receive a drop of your precious load?”
Her eyes sparkle, and I shake my head.
With increasing fascination and a quick growing dick, I watch her run the ice cube down my belly toward the tip of my now erect cock. When the ice rubs over my tip, shock waves of pleasure rip through me.
Fuck. What is she doing to me?
Rose giggles and moves the ice along the length of my massive member, around its base, and back up again. It’s as if she’s trying to extinguish the flames of desire burning within me.
But all that she’s doing is fanning them. Fire and ice, pleasure and pain, they work in unison.
I’ve stopped preparing our drinks. I’m unable to string a coherent thought together, and I’m not even sure I’d be able to say my name if I was asked what it is.
Rose now drops to her knees and stares at my cock. Standing erect and at attention, it’s quivering in anticipation.
At this point, I may just spray my cum all over at the slightest touch.
The cold is still lingering on my skin, and when Rose bends forward to blow a gentle kiss on my tip, I nearly faint from the pleasure.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m dizzy from the excitement building in me. I know any second she’s going to wrap those lips around my throbbing
fucking cock and suck on it for all she’s worth.
But nothing happens.
My eyes find hers. She’s simply staring at my cock, feasting on it, devouring it with her eyes.
Then she looks at me.
“I thought you promised me a drink,” she says with a pout.
I shake my head.
“Um…” I try to focus, but it’s difficult with the haze in my head.
“How about some Baileys and ice?” she suggests, and I rummage around my bottles until I find what the lady asks for.
She stays kneeling in front of me. I hand her the drink.
“Thank you,” she murmurs and dips her finger into the glass. I watch her take it out and lick off the liquid.
“Mmm,” she murmurs and then puts her finger back in the glass. Wide-eyed, I watch her drip some of her drink onto my pulsing cock.
The cool liquid sends pleasure pulsing through me. When she then gently laps up the droplets, I feel as if I’m going to fucking explode with pleasure.
“That’s better,” she says. “Sweet and salty mixed with sexual desire and lust.”
When her hot lips leave my cool cock, I want to just shove it right into her fucking pussy. For a microsecond, I don’t even fucking care I’m not wearing a condom.
But before I can act on my desire, she’s dripped more of her cocktail on my cock, and I shiver in anticipation.
Her tongue darts out, cleaning the dripping liquid off me and continuing to lick the length of my shaft for good measure.
“Ohhhhh,” I groan, unable to form any coherent words.
Is this woman real? Or is she a witch? If she had green eyes, I might be tempted to think I’d caught myself a witch, who was now using her wicked ways with me.
Whatever she is, I don’t fucking care. I just need to shove my throbbing fucking cock into her, into some part of her, any fucking part of her.
When she pours some more of her drink over me, I nearly go insane. Then she puts her mouth over my cock and starts to suck and lick and suck.
Explosions rip through me. My mind has gone completely blank and is filled with a hazy fog of intense lust. I need to fuck her.
