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He regarded me for a moment longer then helped me stand, walking me into the lobby before wrapping me into his coat.
His lips were so warm when they brushed mine. So tender though he pressed harder on the next pass. Then I was whimpering while he plied my mouth with his, his hands alternating between warming my cheeks and holding me to him.
The only thought that remained in my head was that I cared he was back.
For the past few weeks, we'd been concentrating on orgasm control. It had been hard at first because I'd gotten used to only feeling, not concentrating, when we were together like that. As a result, we'd discussed possible punishments for disobedience. He'd wanted to avoid spanking since I liked it and he wasn't into physical harm.
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Yes, I had a confirmed good-ole case of the winter cold that just would not go away. I'd started sniffling and coughing almost two weeks ago after my thirtieth birthday celebration (which had consisted of just the two of us, a bottle of chocolate sauce, a container of whipped topping, my little toy box, and the kitchen island). But there was more to my current demeanor. More that Chris didn't know about. My trip to the doctor three days ago had been two-fold: I'd wanted to check out the consistent rasp in my breathing; and I was scheduled to have my first ultrasound.
I grinned before going back to flick my tongue at the tip of his cock a couple of times. At his guttural moan, I engulfed him almost to his base, the PA piercing blocking the rest of the way, as always.
Chris flung his head back. "Fuck.
" Chris reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a crooked grin on his face. "You've got it all planned out, don't you?" "You think it's a stupid idea. " I frowned and looked away. "I didn't say that.
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Then I repeated the process by pressing my lips to each ball and the skin covering each bar. Jaw clenched and eyes bright, he swallowed hard three times, his Adam's apple bouncing like a buoy on the water. His fingers twisted tighter in my hair. He even seemed to scoot down further, moving toward me.
He just kept staring into my eyes. So I stared back, studying the blue depths that grew brighter again in the light from the bedside lamp. I loved looking at them. at him. My favorite time was when he was sleeping.
He gave me a teasing glare and nibbled at the underside of one breast, which sent me wiggling. Only his deep grind at my waist stilled me. But he did sit up. "I decided I needed fulltime employment. Over the next couple of years, I worked at various jobs that required manual labor and had nothing to do with my degree.