Page 41 of Guarded By the Krampus

Of course she’d put me into my first rut.

“Oh God, Ace,” she whispered, as cum started pouring out from where we met, dripping down her thighs. “It’s hot,” she said, and I had a moment of shame that almost threw me out of things before she continued. “It feels good.”

“Good,” I grunted, trying not to grit my teeth as my balls pulled up again. It was like the entire lower half of my body was now acting on instinct, and I was just the puppet attached to the strings. “Oh God—Sarah—I’ve gotta—” I groaned, losing myself inside of her again.

“I can’t believe how much you love me,” she said, clinging onto my fur for dear life.

If love were measured in semen volume, then yes—so very fucking much.

Then she hissed, and gasped, and I worried I’d done something wrong, trying to maintain some control of—I didn’t the fuck know at this point, as my lust rose like a thermometer on a summer day—maybe the top quarter of my brain?—before she let go of me with a hand and put it back between her legs to touch herself.

I gasped and came again.

“Yeah—uh-huh—” she said. “Just—just like that?—”

For the next few hours, orgasms were like one of those pendulum toys on fancy office desks, swinging back and forth between us. I would slow down, and then she would start up, or vice versa, and back again—I knew her mattress was destroyed, but why not ruin it for all it’s worth?—and she went hoarse from screaming.

And then the tide of lust—or cum—receded. Some semblance of sanity was restored, and I was stroking just to stroke, because I didn’t want to leave her.

“Oh Ace,” she said, collapsing even further against me, and I slowed to a stop and gently stroked her back. For the first time in my entire fucking adult life, my balls actually felt drained. My dick relaxed at long last, she shifted, and it slid out, closely followed by a warm gush of the last cum I’d shot in her pussy.

She made a satisfied hum. “If that doesn’t get me pregnant, I don’t know what the fuck will,” she said, and I could feel her smiling against my chest.

I didn’t either…but I still wanted to be sure.

“Uh, so, can we do one more thing? It’s a long-term fantasy of mine.”

She drowsily pushed back. “What?”

“It’s easier to show you. Just say yes.”

The smile she gave me then was blinding. “Yes.”

“Okay,” I announced, slowly getting up—my cum drenched fur was stuck to me, and I was sure I looked at least partially like a wet cat, so I was kinda glad she couldn’t see. Then I grabbed her by her ankles…and began carefully lifting her up in front of me.

“Ace!” she shouted.

“I’ll be careful!” I promised, and the planewason the ground. She squealed as I lifted her high and started running my tongue between her legs.

I already knew what I tasted like, from my own shenanigans—but tasting myself and her? Knowing that my sperm was already settling itself inside her, stalking her next egg like a caveman stalked a bear?

The thought was so good, I could barely stand thinking it—especially because I knew I wasn’t dreaming it alone.

“You’re so silly!” she laughed, and then purred my name as I sucked on her clit. “How long has this been a fantasy?”

I smiled right against her pussy, where I knew that she could feel it. “For the better part of five days.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I made her come two more times, then gingerly set her down. As far as I was concerned, she was pregnant with my baby now, and any confirmation that might come after was merely a formality. I took her to the shower, washed her clean, and then we sprayed half the bathroom as she tried to clean me, mostly because we didn’t both fit in the shower, and neither one of us was willing to admit it.

“This is a point in my apartment bathroom’s favor—the shower’s huge, even if nothing else is,” I told her, when we were drying off.

“I’ll remodel,” she said flippantly, giving me a smile, before sobering. “Though I’m not looking forward to sleeping on a waterbed.”

“That’s a charitable definition of it,” I laughed, before stalking into the other room to fix things.

She heard the bedsprings squeaking. “Ace? What did you do?”

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