Page 65 of Georgia: Britain's Story: Part 1
“Baby, touch yourself. I want to see my ring on your finger as you come all over me.” I sit up, leaning back on my knees, pulling her closer to me as I move. I don’t have to ask twice, and when I thrust, her hand is between us, massaging her clit. I can already feel her clenching down on me, and I can’t wait to come in her now that I know this isn’t a fucking dream.
I reach down, grabbing her full breast in my hand, running a thumb over her nipple while my other hand is clenched on her thigh. I’m looking down at her pretty pussy sucking me in when I feel it. She throws her head back, already screaming, and I slam as deep as I can into her, letting myself go. The feeling is so fucking incredible, my ears are ringing as I drown her pussy in my cum.How the fuck did I get so lucky?My future wife is coming down from her orgasm, looking like a fucking goddess and my heart bursts, as if I couldn’t love this woman any more.
“Bambi, promise me you’ll never leave me. Please?” I drop my head, placing kisses all along her neck and collar bone.
“I promise,” she says in her quiet voice, the one she uses when she’s telling me what she really thinks or feels or wants. I slide out of her for the second time this morning. My cum is trailing down her inner thigh and I feel like I could fuck her again, but I should probably let her get some rest.
As I’m getting out of bed, I hear her same quiet voice, “Promise me you’ll never lie to me, please?” There’s a pinch in my gut. I think about where the line between lie and omission is, but I make the promise anyway.
“I promise,” and we both head to the bathroom, our routine solidified, hopefully for the rest of my life.
I’m waiting for her when she comes out of the water closet. I want to know what she thinks of her ring. In hindsight, giving it to her in the dark, in the middle of sex, probably wasn’t ideal, but I just couldn’t wait any longer. It was the perfect moment. She smiles when she sees me, heading to her sink to wash her hands. I come up behind her, looking down at the ring sitting on her left hand.
“Do you like it?” I ask, not caring how desperate I probably sound.
“I love it.” I can see her smile in the reflection. She dries her hand, admiring it in the lighting. “How did you know my ring size? It’s a perfect fit.”
“I measured one of your rings in your travel case.”
She laughs. “So thiswasa premeditated thing? You didn’t just happen to have this ring lying around, waiting for the perfect woman?”Shit, is that what she thinks?
“It was definitely premeditated. I had the proposal all planned out.Butif you want to know about the ring, I bought it two weeks ago, and picked it up when I was in Sonoma. I bought it for you, Britain, to match your eyes. It’s an estate piece, made in 1923, which I thought was fitting since I feel like I’ve had to wait a century to find you.” I pause. “Don’t forget, Bambi, this is only for you. Only you have ever seen me like this.” Her cheeks turn crimson and I press a kiss to her temple.
“It’s perfect, Liam. Thank you. I love it.”
“Great, because I love you.” I give her a wink.
“Love you, too.” She laughs back at me. “So, are we getting up, or going back to bed?”
I look down at my already hard-again cock, “Unless you’d like me to fuck you again, get up? I’ll make us coffee and watch the sunrise?”
“I’d like that.” Her reply is quiet.
“Which part?” I ask, and she laughs again, the best sound in the fucking world.
“The coffee and sunrise part.”
“Damn,” and she laughs…again.
TWENTY-FOUR
Britain
“Shut the fuck up!” Jess screams. I have to hold the phone away from my ear so I can retain my ability to hear. “Are you serious?!”
“Yes. Dead serious,” I say.
“I need photographic evidence. A picture of the ring, and Liam…I’ll wait.” I laugh, holding the speaker away from my mouth, “Babe! Can you come here? We need to take a picture.” He walks out onto the deck, two coffee cups in hand, his sweatpants sitting low on his hips.God, he’s my fucking weakness.
“You called?” he asks. I can hear Jess on the phone, “Is that Liam?” I ignore her, though.
“Can you take a picture with me? Jess doesn’t believe me.” His laugh is low and deep, “Of course.” He stands half behind me wrapping an arm around me, laying one of his hands over my abdomen, causing a low burn to start there, again. We take two pictures, one with me holding my hand up and one normal. I text them both to Jess, and he says, “Can you send those to me too, please?”
I nod, blushing, sending them to him, too. I put the phone back up to my ear in time to hear Jess, “Oh my god, you’re marrying a zaddy.” I can’t help the laughter that bursts out. Liam asks, “What’s so funny? I think this is a great picture.” He’s looking at it on his phone.
“Jess called you a zaddy,” I tell him, “Google it.” I laugh.Age gap things.
“How did he do it?”
