Page 24 of Rather: The Therapist

Became completely undone.

“Oh fuck!”

A gush of white, thick cream seeped from her center.

A gusher. My world was complete at once.

Fuck. She’s a gusher. Fuck.

I left her on the bed, gasping for air as I stalked the floor, contemplating my departure. Somehow, I’d had enough of her to last a full month. Any more, and I couldn’t promise my addiction wouldn’t grow far more rapidly than I’d anticipated, than I’d planned. Finding a woman with some good pussy amongst the many in the ballroom would’ve suited me.

That’s what I’d come for. But, one with the ability to maintain my attention, soothe parts of me that were restricted, and climb over the barriers I’d put in place two years ago was not what I was expecting.

Against my better judgment, I left the restraints around her wrist and slid the condom on my dick. It was so brittle it ached. I climbed atop the bed, unable to control my limbs. My neck stretched until my lips were against hers.

“Taste yourself.”

Hungrily, she accepted me into her mouth, tonguing me down without reservation. My hand lifted the back of her head, pulling her deeper into me. She was in my space, in my hands, and in my mouth. Somehow, that still wasn’t enough to satisfy my appetite.

I curved my body and spread her eagle style without disconnecting our lips. And, as her breath halted, so did mine. Simultaneously, I entered her.

“Goddamn, baby.”

She contracted against me, attempting to extract more semen from my dick. Hadn’t I already released a premature load, she would’ve succeeded. She was still riding her wave and wanted me to join her. My ride had ended. I was ready to board another with her at the wheel.

“Yesssss.”

Slowly, I began to scribble on her walls. The snugness of her pouch had me fighting for residency, pulling me deeper and deeper. In utter disbelief of how fucking powerful her suction was, I lifted my upper body, needing to witness it with my own eyes.

Wrong move.

I recognized my mistake as soon as I’d made it. Seeing my dick covered in a thick, frothy concoction derived from her pussy had me delirious. I pressed a hand against the bed, right next to her head, and the other around her neck.

“Ummmmm.”

Looking her dead in those hypnotizing ass eyes, I folded. Whatever spell her pussy and presence had me under, I doubt I’d come from under any time soon. I’d need more than a night to recover from this one. I’d need a few. Because if I didn’t take it easy, I’d overdose on this shit. Overdose on her. She was intoxicating, barely giving a nigga room to breathe.

“You’re a fucking problem. Already.”

With my hand still wrapped around her throat, I cruised her ocean, familiarizing myself with the new, barely charted territory that was mine to have as long as we were in the confinement of my suite. She struggled to free her hands. There was no use. I wanted her just the way she was, unable to resist and unable to lessen the intensity of her next orgasm. It was coming. I could feel her pussy as it prepared to spit up, again.

I freed her neck and gripped her waist with both hands. Gently and very slowly, I began to apply pressure to her lower stomach. My strokes grew deeper as I guided them toward her g-spot, tapping against it each time I plunged into her.

“Wa— Uhhhhh. Wait.”

“Nah. Give me that shit.”

“Fuck. Fu– Ummmmm.”

There she was. Like a flower, she began to open.

“Fucccccck. Oh God.”

I removed myself and then the condom. With my right hand, I stroked my dick. With the left, I rubbed the swollen nub of her pussy. Her ejaculation preceded mine. Together, we made a mess of the sheets beneath us.

“Urgggggh. Shit.”

My veins peeked through my skin as my fingers stiffened and my hands locked up. A tingling sensation curled my toes and sealed my lids. It was my turn to close my eyes.

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