Page 22 of Royally Drawn

“Size isn’t everything, I’m sure, but what can I do?”

I wasn’t legendary. I wasn’t small, either. I was a grower, not a shower. Maybe she thought the outline of my flaccid dick was all she could expect? Either way, I hoped she’d return to seriousness again before I felt embarrassed.

“Sorry, it’s lovely,” Ingrid said. “Is it odd if I say you have a beautiful cock?”

“No,” I snickered. “You can say whatever you want about it as long as you admire it.”

I tried not to moan as she tightened her grip around my shaft. She looked down, watching her hand pump up and down as precum began to lace the head of my cock. I knew I needed to put a condom on fast, if only so I didn’t let her keep doing this. Her grip felt fabulous.

“I think it’s time for a condom,” I said, rolling towards the nightstand.

She let me go, lying again flat on the bed, head still on the pillows. I rolled the condom over the head and down my shaft, once more feasting on the sight of her. She watched everything I did as if studying me. That was how she was—always looking at people with great awareness. It was some impressive intelligence.

I wanted to shake her out of that, so I pulled her down the bed by the ankles. I parted her legs until I was in between her thighs once more. I looked down at her face, stunned. With a satisfied smile, I leaned in to kiss her. She reacted by running her hand down my back, digging her nails in as I pressed the tip of my cock against her very wet entrance. She was slick and more than ready.

“You want me inside you then?”

She nodded.

“I need to hear you say it, Ingrid.”

Breathless, she complied. “Yes, I want you… inside me.”

I slowly slid inside her tight pussy, spreading her out slowlyat first. I watched her face as I thrust gently. She gave over to me, digging her nails into my lower back. She flushed as I picked up steam, slowly rolling into her with one thrust and then another. She smiled up at me now, satisfied. That was what I wanted.

“You like that?” I asked.

“You feel so good,” Ingrid whispered.

I kissed her. “You feel amazing. Smooth like silk. So warm and sweet.”

“God, don’t stop,” she moaned.

“Say it in French,” I whispered.

“Baise-moi,” she moaned. “Fuck me. Please.Plus fort.”

The mixture of English and French worked. She wanted me to pound her harder? I could do that. I put her feet on my shoulders, picking up a good rhythm. It enhanced her pleasure while delivering more sights and sounds for me. Her tits bounced everywhere as she gripped onto the pillows behind her for dear life.

She tensed more and more around me. I watched, enrapt, as her toes curled, and her nostrils flared. She was about to climax. Maintaining a grip on her right leg with my left arm, I dropped my right arm to play with her swollen and soaked clit. I had no trouble dialling her up to eleven with only a few strokes. She moaned louder, then growled.

“Ouais! Yes! More!”

I stroked her pussy faster and pumped harder. She gave over to the orgasm, eyes rolling back into her head. Her legs shuddered.

“Oh, fuck!”

I couldn’t help but smile. Her whole chest and face were read. She panted like she’d just run a marathon. She was spent.

“Good?” I asked.

“Yes, Keir.Ouais.”

“The only thing is, I thought you might throw me a bone and scream my name,” I sighed, playing it cool.

“Well, you have more chances to get it right, yes?” Ingrid asked.

She bit her lip as if summoning me back down to kiss her. I couldn’t resist. I slowly ground into her as our lips met, pulling her hair at the roots like before. She moaned every time I went in deep, as ifdesperate to have all of me inside her. It was satisfying to feel her fall apart. This was heaven. I knew I shouldn’t play with fire lest we all get burned, but damn she was electric. Who was I to hold back?

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