Page 33 of Rather: The Therapist

Rose’s grip on my arm tightened. My appreciation for the euphoria on her face as she came led me to my knees. I pushed her legs backward until they reached the headboard, keeping them together to maximize the healthy friction between us.

“Yessss–”

Her pussy was so generous. So giving. So selfless, offering me every inch of it for my own consumption. I got lost in her ocean, desperately trying to find a raft to avoid drowning. There was hardly any use. It was inevitable. As she began to mount, my semen began its journey from my sack.

“I’m cu— Mmmmmm. Uhhhh. Plea– don’t sto– Mmm.”

“Eyes.”

My limbs stiffened.

“Eyes.”

Low and lusty, her eyes penetrated me, reaching depths that were roped off and deserted. I removed my dick just as the bulge reached the tip. Her legs fell flat onto the bed. I stood on wobbly legs.

“Come here.”

Hurriedly, she twisted her body until her head was in my hands. I pulled the condom off and began stroking my tool.

“Open up.”

With a hand full of hair, I tilted her head backward. I stuffed her mouth, refusing to stop until I reached the back of her throat. Rose sealed her lips around me while placing a hand on the base. Another cupped my balls. The trio unified with promises to strip me of every sperm cell my body was capable of producing.

Slurping, with hardly any shame in the amount of saliva she managed, Rose disarmed me. My ass cheeks grew tighter and closer together. My toes curled, nearly cutting slits into the sheets.

And, then, when I thought I’d reached the brink of insanity, she pulled back and spat on my shit as if it wasn’t wet enough.

Fuck.

When her lips touched me again, all hell broke loose. I gripped her tresses, gently removing myself from her vacuum of a fucking mouth.

“Tongue,” I begged, desperate because I was losing my shit on the inside.

The second she revealed the vicious monster that was only part of the complete system, I let off. On her tongue and the roof of her mouth, my seeds found their home. Being a very good girl, she swallowed, erasing visible traces of them. However, I knew they’d linger.

“Good fucking girl, Rose.”

I patted her cheek, ready to fall on my fucking face. By the time I lowered my body to the mattress, her head had already hit the pillow. I pulled her closer to me, burying myself in her neck for an endless supply of her scent as her heartbeat lulled me to sleep.

The sun’s viciousness shined through the slits of the blinds, but it wasn’t what had awakened me. It was the feeling of those dark eyes and that pensive gaze of Rose’s.

“Good morning,” I rasped, still unsure how I’d managed a full night’s rest.

“Good morning.”

The sadness in her voice tugged at my lids, pulling them apart in spite of the brightness.

“How are you feeling?”

Those dark eyes were big and intrusive, saddened and regretful.

“Like I want you to wake up.”

“Then, why’d you let me sleep?” I yawned.

I grabbed her leg and pulled her closer. She was sitting up, still naked, with her legs folded Indian-style.

“Because–” she paused.

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