Well, sort of. It was hard for her to really relax with me eating her pussy. As promised. I’m very good, have taken to heart coaching whenever offered, and always loved doing it. As I predicted at the restaurant, Angela was indeed very wet, and my slurping no doubt communicated my delight.
I was pretty cruel, though. I kept my lips and tongue on everything except her clitoris for the first, oh, maybe ten minutes – who times such things? – by which time she was thrashing about, chasing my tongue with her sex, trying to get it on her clit.
But I denied her.
Until she begged.
Her third orgasm seemed the biggest and best, and after it she pulled my head up, and snuggled against me as we resumed serious kissing. She had a way with her fingers, and seemed to totally enjoy how she could make my cock twitch and me wince whenever she wanted. Which was often.
When it came time for fucking, Angela seemed surprised but very pleased when I arranged her on her side and put a pillow between her legs, the position my research had indicated was easiest in the last trimester. When I lay down behind her, she eagerly obeyed my directive to grab my cock and guide it into her. I didn’t really think she’d get cold feet at this point, but just being eaten by a guy might not be quite as adulterous as actually putting his penis inside you.
I hoped Angela’s complicity would be my insurance against her telling anyone. After having some wine, she’d spoken too freely with Teo, and I didn’t want her to confess to a tryst with some mystery man at her dad’s place. Just before he was killed. I needed Angela to be all in. Once she’d put me all in, so was she.
Angela wanted to try cowgirl for round two and I helped her mount up. Her frustration was evident when her swollen stomach kept her from moving easily, so I ended up doing most of the work, supporting her belly, fondling her breasts and thrusting up into her from below. She coddled my cheeks and kissed me sweetly as we recovered.
We took a break for some wine and caviar – her father had excellent taste in both – and it seemed to revive us.
She said she was just going to use her mouth to get me up for another go, but she didn’t stop, even when I told her that what she was doing was just too amazing. Angela had a very satisfied look on her face when she kissed me after swallowing all I had to give, and had an even more contented mien after I’d performed another evidently passable job of cunnilingus.
Angela wondered aloud if caviar had the same aphrodisiacal powers as oysters as I hungrily dispatched a second jar. She giggled and allowed that she hoped so. She had plans… It was totally incongruous how she went from giggling and laughing one moment to awful, soulful weeping the next.
As I held and stroked her wracking body, mystified and at a loss for what to say, between sobs Angela began to talk. This had been such a wonderful, perfect day, perhaps her best ever. And she would never, ever have anything like it again.
After the next torrent of tears abated she went on. It was so amazing, so wonderful to feel treasured, desired, to have fabulous sex with a considerate, attentive lover. She was doomed, forced by her son-of-a-bitch father to a life of having baby after baby with a man she could hardly stand, who didn’t love her, didn’t care for her at all. Considered her ugly and unattractive. Especially when pregnant.
As she confessed more and more of her most intimate thoughts, her despair at her life situation, I felt more and more contemptible for using her. To get to her father. Even though I had no choice – if he didn’t die, Teo and I would – I was going to thrust this lovely, kind, and beautiful young woman’s life into chaos. I could not have helped but begin to like her at the restaurant, then like her very much as I came to appreciate her depth, inner beauty, and loving nature. Not to mention her very hot sexual allure and expertise.
Evidently also very intuitive, Angela read my chagrin, and the next thing I knew she was apologizing for burdening me with her troubles when I no doubt had plenty of my own. Then she was actually comforting me, holding me, stroking me everywhere, making me feel better.
Much better.
Once her hands began the job, she became even more inventive with her tongue, and, like a good soldier, my penis stood up and saluted. We began a replay of our first sex, me behind her, one arm around her shoulder with my hand on her breast, the other embedded in her pussy, fingers caressing her clit, but after two solid orgasms – my goodness, this woman could come! – she changed things up. I will always remember the look in her eyes as she whispered that she wanted to give me something. Something special.
The hand cream worked well enough, lubricating my middle finger as I worked it in and out of her ass. Angela purred nicely when I eased in two, and and even more lasciviously when I pushed in three. Loosening her up. She’d told me she wanted to give me her virgin ass as our souvenir of this day. Who was I to argue? But there is a protocol for how it should be done with someone about whom you care. Thus fingers first.
Once three fingers slipped in easily, her sphincter had stretched enough. Lying on her side, she turned and looked back at me as I lay behind her and guided my cock to her entrance. Angela’s eyes conveyed the significance of her gift as she winced when the head popped into her. “Go ahead,” she whispered after I’d given her anus a few seconds to get used to having a hard penis inside it.