Page 109 of Agency
There was more than just a trickle waiting in those shimmering, pale blue pools. She was clearly holding back her tears, and I could see the way she was fighting within herself.
“No,” she whispered. “I need this.” She swallowed and closed her eyes. “Keep going, sir. Please. It doesn’t hurt. Not the way you think it does.”
She didn’t open them as I brought my hand back down.
“Thirty-eight,” she whispered. Then, as if to punctuate my following strike. “Thir-thir-thirty-nine.”
I was inside her then, and she was arching her back, her abs rippling and contorting as her still-bound arms shook and trembled, her body twisting in a frantic, erotic dance. We didn’t speak–we didn’t even whisper–as I guided her up and down my cock, her pussy massaging me every step of the way as she cried and came. Tears wet my shoulder as she lay her face against me, and still she came, as much a physical release as an emotional one.
“P-p-p-please,” she whimpered finally, hips bucking as she milked me. “One more.”
I slapped down. Hard. Finishing this.
“Forty!” she cried for me.
I couldn’t hold out. I knew I couldn’t. My own orgasm had already built and built inside me, and the pressure was becoming too much to consider stopping now.
“Please, Jericho. Please sir. Cum inside your good girl. Tell me I’m a good girl.”
Groaning, my hips sped up as my fingers dug back into her hips. Lifting her, slamming my hips into her on the way back down, going deeper and deeper with every stroke into that massaging vice grip, I fucked her. Fucked her like we’d been waiting for ages, instead of just days, like there was more than just mind-blowing orgasms as our goal.
And, maybe, there was…
“You’re a good girl,” I whispered. “You’re such a good girl, Ambyr.”
She shuddered again at my words, and I could feel her drenching my cock, even as I grew and pulsed and began to unload within her. Filling her, fucking her, I made her as much mine as my friends had. My arm tightened around her waist, and my hips moved as I pulled her tight to my chest. Gasping, our mouths found one another, and her tongue was so sweet and so desperate as she swirled around me.
She cried out as I sucked her tongue into my mouth, as I drank her down and filled her with my cum. She continued to milk me, to massage me, to take everything I had, even as our kiss broke and we leaned our foreheads together for mutual support. Gasping, whimpering, half-moaning, we looked into each other’s eyes in the firelight for a long moment.
We kissed again. And the kiss was sweet, with no tongue and only lips. Even sweeter as we locked gazes.
Her eyes hadn’t yet dried, and were now puffed from all the crying.
But, goddamn was she beautiful. Goddamn.
“Here,” I said, straightening as I reached up to her breasts.
“Oh,” she said, after at first looking surprised, as I took the key from around her neck. Still keeping her on my lap, I reached around and removed her cuffs. She moved her arms slowly at first, as if uncertain of what to do with them, but was soon rubbing her wrists as she tried to hide her face from me.
“Hey,” I said, guiding her eyes back to mine with a touch on her chin. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” She nodded, wiped a newly freed hand across an eye as she sniffled. She nodded again. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Good.” Then, I was cradling her to me and laying her back on the couch, much more gently than earlier. Before she could say anything else, I opened her legs again, this time with more care. I lowered my mouth between her thighs.
“What are you—?”
My mouth on her filled pussy silenced her question, and turned her words into unintelligible gibberish as my tongue began to clean her, to delve deeper and deeper. Tasting myself, tasting her, I took everything.
She came again. Hard, but quietly.
“Please,” she whimpered as she came down. Hands now on the back of my head, her body again began to shake. “God, Jericho, please come up here.”
Finding her clit with my tongue and lips, I sucked more tenderly than before. I knew she must be sensitive and almost sore, and I took care to be more relaxed this time around. She must not have been as sore as I assumed, because her hands switched from pulling at my short hair to grinding me into her sex. Licking, sucking, appreciating, I loved every moment of her next orgasm.
Finally, with her shaking and trembling so hard that I began to worry she’d rattle apart, I pulled away and slid up to cradle her. She melted into my arms as my hands slid over her flesh. I held her as the after-shocks began, then passed. We lay like that for a long time, her smaller form tight against mine.
“Do you really forgive me?” she whispered after a long moment. “Do you really forgive me, Jericho?”
