Page 17 of Hideaway Whirlwind
Elliott is silent. Not even his breath stirs the frosty air when I swing my right leg over to straddle his thick thighs that are even firmer than I expected. Being so short, my hips ache with my knees spread so wide around him, especially when I move up, holding my breath when I find the waistband on his sweatpants and pull it down.
Elliott finally makes a noise, just a little sip of air, when I grip his cock that’s already hard and long and bigger than the men I’ve been with, perfectly proportional to the rest of him. I’d thought about using my mouth, but since I’ve dealt with more than my usual amount of nausea in this pregnancy, which I constantly have to hide, I don’t think I could stomach it—if I could even fit him in my mouth, which I don’t think I can. I doubt he’d be satisfied with me just using my hands, so I’m left with only one option, which will be quite the feat. A thrill unexpectedly thrums under my skin. Desire, I shockingly realize. Something I’m not sure I’ve ever truly felt.
Because of our size difference, it takes quite a bit of adjusting and finally having to lift my bottom with my feet flat on the mattress instead of my knees in order to get the angle right and fit his crown at my entrance. Before I sink down onto it—or attempt to, at least—I whisper, “Do you have a condom?”
I feel him shake his head more than I see it. I had thought as much.
“Have you been tested?” If not, then I can’t go through with this, and I strangely think I’d be more disappointed than I would be relieved.
“Yes,” he says after a hard swallow, his hands having drifted to oddly gripping my ankles, which is fine by me. “All negative, and I haven’t been with anyone since my last checkup.”
“Me, too.” I wait in case he would prefer me to use my hands or mouth after all. But when he doesn’t stop me or say anything, I brace a hand over what I know to be his hellhound tattoo and slowly take him inside me, finding it difficult to fit even just his crown at first.
The growing thrill takes on the competitive edge I thrived on when I played soccer during the summers before we moved to the desert, making this experience even more exciting, and I decide to give Elliott my all. I won’t just thank him for his help, as I’d planned. I’ll make him thankme.
Elliott
I would think I was daydreaming again, what with Birdie being in my house and my thoughts of her spinning out of control in my head, if it weren’t for the very real heat wrapped around my cock as Birdie works her generous hips exhaustively to take me deeper, deeper, so deep into her lush body. I hold tight to her ankles as if holding onto reality and refuse to make a sound that would layer on top of the soft gasping noises Birdie makes as her pussy slowly, so very, very slowly, adjusts and stretches to accept me. I don’t know how she does it, but I thank every deity I can think of that she can.
When she’s finally taken all of me with one last gasp, her plump ass flush with my thighs, the need to cum overrides just about all my senses, but I worry that if I do, I’ll disappoint the biggest blessing of my life. Though why she’s in here in the first place and what she could possibly see in me enough to give me her beautiful self, I have no idea.
It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman, keeping to myself out on the road for as long as possible, never engaging with any of the women who work the lots at truck stops. I know that, if I had, none of those couplings would be as soul-satisfying as being intimate with Birdie…if she’s in factrealandnotjust my most vivid hallucination to date, having lost hold of the last scrap of reality.
When she leans forward to better brace both hands on my upper abdomen, changing the angle and clenching around my cockhead, beginning to bounce up and down, I finally let the first sound slip when I moan low, “Birdie, yes.”
Her rhythm falters when I skate my hands up the sides of her legs and the backs of her thighs, and I instantly move them back down to her ankles. Maybe she doesn’t like being touched as much as I usually don’t.
But then she whispers, “Help me,” in a breathy voice, unable to keep riding me at the same pace.
I’ll give her all the help she needs for the rest of her life.She’ll never even need to ask me, because I’ll already be there, taking up her cause.
Slipping my hands under the flannel to grip her ass that I so wish I had enough light to properly see and appreciate, I easily lift and drop her back down, pumping my hips up carefully at the same time so I don’t go too hard and hurt her.
“Fuck, Birdie, I’m going to cum,” I moan as her growing arousal slicks my passage, making it easier to thrust in and out of the woman who has an undeniable chokehold on me.I hope she never lets me go.
“Not…” She hesitates before releasing the softest moan and finishing with, “Not yet.”
I flex my thighs, throwing my head back on my pillow, tryingnot to cum, but another two bounces threaten to shatter my resistance. “Please, Birdie.”
“Not yet,” she says more impatiently, walking her hands down to my belly so she has better leverage to rock her hips forward and back. “Faster, Elliott.”
A whine works its way up my throat, struggling to do as she says. Keeping hold of her round ass and helping her bounce with one hand, I push my other between us, skating my hand up her soft inner thigh, wanting to find and rub her clit with my thumb so she’ll cum and hopefully allow me to as well.
“Stop,” she says, leaning to the side and shoving my hand away.
The iciness of her demand sends a shock wave through me, and my impending release rolls back. I instantly let go, bringing both of my hands up near my head. “I’m sorry,” I say, though I’m not exactly sure what I did wrong. All I know is that I somehow fucked up the greatest thing that has happened to me in three decades.
Chapter 9
Teagan
“No, no.” I grab Elliott’s massive, strong hands and bring them to my ass, squeezing his wrists until he squeezesme. “Don’t stop that part,” I say, surprised by how badly I don’t want this to end yet, and not just because of the challenge. I want desperately to cum after being starved of affection for so long, especially now that I know he’ll stop exactly when I tell him to instead of coercing me to keep going. What a breath of fresh air, even if it is just the bare minimum.
“What…?” Elliott leaves his question open-ended, and I know he must be confused. But that doesn’t stop him from maneuvering my body up and down with ease until his cock starts to swell as large as it had been before my demand took the wind out of his sails, figuratively speaking.
“Just don’t touch my stomach,” I say between moans that I have to bite back so we don’t wake the kids. Being pregnant puts me in an even more vulnerable position, and I don’t want anyone to know…which he would have figured out as soon as his hand brushed my abdomen, scrunched as I am in this position.
“Ok,” Elliott says slowly, then more firmly, “I won’t.”
