Three Little Words

“But then I tell you about them, and you act like they aren’t that unusual, like everyone has kinky fantasies.”

“Almost everyone does,” I said. “Most people are just too scared to admit it, even to themselves. They lie and say it’s disgusting or perverted or whatever. And the more they say it, the more they’re trying to hide.”

“But not you.”

“Not me,” I agreed. “I’m… comfortable… with my kinky inner life.

Many of my fantasies will stay fantasies, but that’s okay. Having them doesn’t make me a bad person. Neither does acting them out, as long as everyone’s willing.”

“I thought about that earlier tonight, out on the street, when we were…

you know.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“And that’s why I tell you things about my past. And… what I want.” She smoothed her hands over her legs again as she worked up her courage.

“Talking about Vaughn made me think about when he forced me, that first time in front of Lani and Peter.”

“And…?”

“I… kind of want you to do that. Force me to suck you off. Hold my head and make me.”

I set my untouched whiskey on the nightstand.

“Not now,” she said with a laugh. “But… sometime. When I’m not expecting it. Just whip it out and make me suck you off.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“I think so.” She grinned and blushed. “In the meantime, I think Mr. Big needs some attention for real. He says he’s tired of all this talk, talk, talk.”

I couldn’t hide my amusement. “Oh he does, does he?”

“Mmm hmm. He talks to me all the time. Not as much as he talks to you, but still… And right now he says he needs fellatio.”

“He uses big words sometimes.”

“He’s very intelligent. Sometimes he spends all day thinking about just one thing.”

“You can say that again!” I laughed.

“I’d better give him what he wants.” She took a firm grip on my hard-on and lowered her mouth to it.

I leaned back and relaxed on the pillows with a hand behind my head. I rested the other on Christy’s head as she nuzzled and kissed my straining

erection. After a few minutes she cupped my balls and caressed them. Then she began sucking in earnest.

We were both in the mood for a slow blowjob, so I closed my eyes and lost track of time as she enjoyed herself. I opened them when I felt her shift.

She angled her hips and spread her legs. Her smooth pussy glistened in the light from the fire. She began playing with herself with one hand while she steadied my shaft with the other. Her dark nipples were stiff and puckered with arousal. I rolled one between thumb and forefinger, and she groaned around my cock.

I could feel the pressure building in my balls, but I tried to hold back till she was ready. She must have sensed it, because she stopped trying to make me come and started concentrating on her own pleasure. I pinched her nipple harder and tugged at the stiff little bud.

After several minutes she began sucking faster and swirling her tongue around my glans. She was getting close, so I held her head and began thrusting my hips. That pushed her over the edge, and she came with a soft groan of surprise.

Her lips tightened around my shaft, which was the signal for my balls to convulse and unleash a torrent of semen down her throat. She swallowed automatically and rode the combined wave of orgasms. When they finally subsided, we lay in silence and caught our breath.

“Mmm, that was nice,” she said. Then she immediately stifled a yawn.

“Oh, my. Do you mind waiting till tomorrow to tell me your story?”

I chuckled. “I was just about to ask you the same thing. Come on up. And bring the covers with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

I reached over and turned off the bedside light. The fire made the room glow a dull red-orange.

Christy reached down and caressed my flaccid manhood. “Were you serious about what you said before, about having kids?”

“Yes. Why?”

She laughed softly. “’Cause I just swallowed about a million of our children.”

“That’s okay. I’m not ready to have them yet.”

“Me neither. So it’s okay if I keep swallowing?”

“Sure,” I chuckled. Then I rubbed her back. “Have to feed that voracious appetite of yours.”

“Mmm, an appetite for sperm.” She kissed my chest, yawned again, and squeezed my penis. “I love you.”

“Me or him?”

“Both!”

“Good. We love you too. Sweet dreams.”

“Mmm, of Paul and penis.”

We hit the slopes the next morning and skied all day. Christy was still a better skier, but mostly because she was more agile. I was faster on the straightaways and had more stamina, although part of that was because of her metabolism. I could tell when she ran out of energy and needed to eat—she was like a toy whose batteries had run out—so I made a mental note to bring a couple of candy bars with me next time.

We ate dinner at the steakhouse at what had already become “our” table.

Then we strolled through the village and gazed in the shop windows before we returned to the inn. I made sure to fill the ice bucket before I took off my clothes, while Christy ran a hot bath.