Page 8 of A Taste of His Angel
I’m elated he didn’t question me again before taking me, finally accepting the truth, even as my pussy smarts at the discomfort of being stretched to accommodate his size. I take a deep breath when he backs up, then slowly pushes deeper, back and forth, until our hips finally meet.
“Are you ok, angel?”
Despite the initial discomfort, there’s no pain like I expected to feel the first time I had sex. I hook my legs around his back and tug at the nape of his neck to deepen our kiss, silently answering him and begging him to keep going.
Each long, deep thrust after that is faster than the last until, eventually, I have to break the kiss to drag in a gasping breath, my head swimming as my pussy pulses around him. The pressure that builds in my core is more urgent than when he licked me into an orgasm in the kitchen, and I instinctively rock my hips to meet each forward stroke.
“Oh, angel, oh fuck, honey. You’re getting close, aren’t you?”
“Yes! Oh god, please, please, sir, make me cum again.”
Sherman snaps his hips, driving my body up, and I hold tighter to him. “Keep calling me ‘sir’, and you’re going to make me cum first.” He snaps his hips again, and the high his words illicit is as pleasurable as the peak of the orgasm I’m about to reach.
“Yes, yes, sir. I want you to cum.” Disappointment tugs at my heart when Sherman groans gutturally, pulls out of me, and rolls to the side. “Why did you stop? Because I called you ‘sir’?” I tumble back from my peak, and my eyes throb with impending tears. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
Sherman rolls back toward me, sitting up on his knees between my legs. “Angel, no. Never.” He waves a foil square in the air. “I just needed to stop to get a condom.”
“Why?”
He pauses halfway through ripping the foil open, looking back and forth between me and the square. “I know you’re young, but you know what condoms are, right?”
Sherman’s light brows shoot up when I take the condom from his hand, eye it with distaste, and ask him with a pout, “You don’t want to cum inside me, sir?” His cock jumps when I rest my palm on my lower belly, missing the fullness of him there.
Sherman fists his shaft, staring at my hand. “Are you on birth control?”
“No, sir.”
“God Almighty, angel. No condom, no birth control, nothing to protect you from getting pregnant.” He slides his free hand under mine, cupping my belly. There’s a hopeful note to his voice when he asks, “Is that what you want?”
I toss the condom over the side of the bed and hold my arms out for him. In an instant, he flattens me to the bed and surges inside me to the hilt. Gone are the long, measured strokes, replaced with fiery passion. Neither of us says a word, simply unable to between moaning and gasping for air, as he braces one elbow next to me so he can slide a hand between us, find my clit, and massage it.
My orgasm comes roaring back with a vengeance, the pressure in my core building to such an intensity that it almost scares me until it finally snaps. “Oh, Sherman, yes!” I clutch his strong shoulders as I writhe beneath him, finding enough air once I go over the peak to hoarsely beg, “Cum inside me, sir.”
Sherman moans, thrusts one final time, and fills me with his release.
I hug him close, stroking his back, ignoring the ache in my joints the longer I have to keep my legs spread wide around his body. “Thank you, sir.”
Sherman pushes his face into my neck, his warm breath making me shiver with delight as it fans over my skin. “Oh, angel, keep it up, and I’ll never be able to let you out of this bed.”
My mind skips to my daydream of him with our future children. “How many bedrooms do you have?”
It takes him a few seconds to push through the after-glow of his orgasm to respond to my seemingly out-of-the-blue question. “Three, including this one. Why?”
“Are they large enough for double beds? If not, I hope the ceilings are tall enough for bunk beds, or we’ll have to move.”
Sherman stares at me with a curious expression. “We?”
I skim a hand up and down his side. “Yes, sir. I saw three children in my dream, so at least two will have to double up unless we move into a larger house or build onto this one.”
Sherman’s softening cock begins to thicken inside me the more I talk aboutour children. A radiant smile slowly spreads from ear to ear. “You’re moving in with me?”
I laugh. “Well…you did say that you wouldn’t be able to let me out of your bed if I called you ‘sir’ again, so I kind of have to move in…sir.”
Sherman jerks his hips back, then thrusts forward with his renewed erection. “Truthfully, I wouldn’t let you out of here even if you didn’t call me ‘sir’. You’re mine, angel,” he says definitively.
I moan, flexing my hips, welcoming him deeper. “Yes, sir. I’m all yours.”
Chapter 9
