A Word of Praise

Chris unwillingly left her in bed to get the condom from his bag. He was not thinking about it earlier, but after almost shooting deep inside her in the shower, his memory was jogged up. He reached for the package, but his hand found the small box he had placed back there earlier, and he smiled. Maybe... later.

He watched her laying in bed, wet and open for him. She was a fucking goddess, and he couldn't understand how he could be so lucky.

"I'll have to finish without you if you just stand there. I don't mind the audience." She motioned to touch herself, and he immediately crawled over the bed to tower her.

"Don't you dare," he threatened and pinned her hands above her head. With his spare hand, he rolled the condom down and slid into her. Fuck, she was so impeccably tight around him.

He knew she would find a way out of his grip again, but if it was anything like that fucking split she did in the shower, he would more than welcome it. She always found a way to elude his plans, but now he couldn't comprehend how he could ever find it annoying. It was perfect.

"Aren't you tired of pinning me down? I think your hands would be just as comfortable choking me instead." Holy shit, he was ruined.

Chris let go of her wrists to place his grip on her throat, and the sight of her eyes rolling back made him lose it. He began to pound inside her relentlessly, and her soft moans, muffled by the light choking, were fueling his desire like the wind on a wildfire.

Not long after, he began to feel the preface of her orgasm. She closed her eyes like he noticed she always did when she came and began to trash against the mattress to find her release.

"Look at me, Kiara," he demanded, and she immediately did. Her spellbinding blue eyes were almost fully taken by her black pupils, clouded by pleasure. Her pussy clenching around him was everything he could ever ask for, and he almost allowed himself to let go with her. Not yet, though.

When she came back from her high, she glared at him with a look he'd photograph and frame if he could. Her eyes were clouded by the pleasure bliss but were also absolutely livid that he didn't cum with her. Then, she assumed a new expression that was the blunt definition of determination. He was fucked.

As if to prove her fierce resolve to kill his attempt on holding back, she skillfully clenched around him. Shit, it felt good. He was holding still inside her, and she was just embracing him on the outside. But on the inside, she was working his dick in a sensual dance that had him seeing black spots in minutes.

"Are you tired already?" She sarcastically asked, knowing damn well he was almost paralyzed by pleasure. But he wanted another orgasm from her, then he'd accept to dive into pleasure himself.

Her words were playful, but he had just the thing to handle her mischief. He relished the fact he knew what she liked already, and that she responded to his every move so perfectly. He turned them around, so she'd straddle him from the top. Then, he brought his hand down to her ass cheek in a slap that sounded so obscenely enticing, he had to do it again.

She began to ride him as if her life depended on it, and Chris didn't want her to ever stop. But then she did, and in a move he didn't see coming, turned around and sat on his dick again. He was left facing her round ass, and she began to move on top of him to the rhythm of their bodies' music.

The woman was a fucking artist, and it showed even in bed with the way her hips moved, and her ass bounced in his own private show. Then, she bent forward a little and began to touch a spot right behind his balls.

At that moment, Chris lost all hope to remain in control. He felt a wave of pleasure consume him in a way he hadn't felt before, and as she kept pressing that spot, he was taken even closer to the edge. He couldn't hold back now, and with a few more ups and downs of her ass, he allowed himself to let go with thick spurts of cum. After a couple of perfect minutes inside her, he finally detached from her sinful body. "Fuck, that felt good," he uttered.

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"That dick of yours works wonders as well."

They both laughed, and he began to place a trail of kisses on her body. They made a mess on the bed, and the sheets were soaking wet, but he couldn't care less. When he reached her tattoo, he stopped kissing her and began to trail the intricate design with his fingers.

"What does it mean?" He asked.

"I did promise to tell you didn't I? The chrysanthemum is the flower of death," she began, pointing to the largest flower, and Chris held his breath. Maybe he shouldn't have asked, but she was actually smiling. "But I found out in Australia, they call it 'mum' and give it as a Mother's Day gift."

"Really?"

"Yeah. When I heard about it, the flower became pretty special to me."

"And the other one?" He asked, tracing the smaller flower that composed her black and grey tattoo.

"The peony? I find it cute," she shrugged.

"Cute?" He was lost. She had a flower that had a double meaning that eternalized her mother on her skin and another she found... cute?

"What, you thought it would have another deep and symbolic meaning?" She pushed her body up to lay against the headboard, and Chris laid on her lap still looking at the ink. She carelessly played with his hair, and it felt like home. He thought it would be a sensitive matter, but she was laughing.

"I don't know, maybe your father?"

"Oh, hell no. The man had a terrible pollen allergy. He would hate it if I had a flower to honor his memory"

He climbed to her side and kissed her, letting her rest on his chest. He wished he could find out every little thing about her just like that, with her in his arms.

"I thought it would be harder to talk about this," she said, more to herself than to him. And he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. "I didn't turn into an empty shaking mess, for once."

He knew she was referring to her derealization episodes, but she had a sort of dark sense of humor to talk about it. He recalled it was not the first time she used it to address troubling subjects. But in the end, he was just glad she was sharing her story. He knew it was not always going to be that easy, but at least she was opening up a bit.

They laid together for a while, enjoying both the silence and the few words that broke it every now and then. When they got cold, they got rid of the wet sheets and asked for a new set. When they - or yet, Kiara - got hungry, they ordered room service and ate in bed. He thought she was already asleep when she moved a bit in his arms.

"I love you too, Chris. I'm sorry it took me a while to realize it."