Page 141 of Rather: The Therapist

She tightened her grip around my neck.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

“Ummmmm.”

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Her pussy was ridiculous. There wasn’t a fucking thing on earth that should’ve felt so damn good. So inviting. So warm. So plentiful.

Her nectar narrated her movements, telling the origin story of her sopping pussy. It was the most beautiful tale. I listened closely, careful not to miss a single detail.

Her lips fell from mine. The side of her face brushed up against the stubble of my shaved beard.

Passionately, she drove her pussy into me continuously. I was unmanning right before her eyes. Each stroke of her sweetness stripped me of another layer.

Her orgasm announced itself before she could. And, when it’s arrival was declared, I gripped her waist and began driving upward, digging a new path in her well for her juices to flow heavily.

“Yes. Yes. Priest. Oh God. Yes.”

“Umm hmm.” I encouraged her dismantling. “Cum on this motherfucker.”

Her body began trembling. She could no longer support her weight. I nailed her with my hammer from below, keeping her up on her legs as my nut rose from my balls. The bulge progressed with every stroke.

“Ahhhhh! Fuck.”

Like the very good girl she was, Rather came for me. I was right behind her. My ass bounced off the bench as I filled her with cum.

“I love you,” breathlessly, she moaned against my cheek.

“Don’t ever stop.”

She rested the weight of her body on mine.

“Come home with me.”

“Rather, I–”

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

“No was never the answer.”

“Turn around. Look.”

Slowly, she lifted from my lap. My dick slid out of her and fell onto my sweats. She’d made a mess. Her creaminess trailed down toward the thighs of my pants. They could use a good cycle in the wash, but tossing them was the plan.

Rather settled beside me, but refused to separate completely. She laid her head on my shoulder as we both watched the sun rise slowly. It wasn’t until it had taken its place in the sky that we emptied the bench.

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