╔════Author's note═════╗
This chapter contains soft pōrn, you can skip it without missing much.;
╚═══════════════════╝
When their hungry kiss had ended, he languidly asked her, "Why couldn't you be so talkative during my hour-long self-talk, hm?"
"I was busy crying...ngh..." She felt his dīck inside her, strong and hard, her whole body vibrating as he also thrust his fingers into her narrow space with more intensity.
"I'm sorry." His eyes softened as his steady pace faltered at her admission. He drew her face closer to him and pressed his mouth against hers. His tongue intertwined with hers in apology; guilt and desire mixed together when she responded.
"I forgive you... " She whispered when he withdrew his mouth. He looked deeply into her eyes and hoped that she could see his guilt and the love that swallowed him whole at her words.
She held onto one of his hands and, wordlessly, their fingers intertwined — at this moment, they were locked together in this bubble of intimacy. Their love, drenched in guilt and burning with the flames of obsession, would never be put out under heavy rains, posing as tribulations. Their love would be fanned by the winds of their hearts.
"...Ngh..." She closed her eyes as she moaned. She was now filled to the brim; he had overtaken her body, from the inside out — now, she could feel nothing but him now. All of her five senses were drowning in him.
He grabbed her knees to spread her legs out further and he continued to penetrate her with his roaring cōck. Her insides became slick, more juices were secreted, heightening her arousal. After their little bout, neither of them wanted to mention it. Especially not now.
His tempo increased as his hips slammed into her skin, making her moan and clench onto him tightly. This tightness made him moan too. Their lewd sounds echoed inside of the room and with their blush-inducing sounds, the dizzy odor of his secreting precūm mixed with her unending juices was intense.
Whenever he pulled out, he felt how her inner walls sucked him back in, and he went crazy in joy, the friction caused by his cōck brought an onslaught of pleasurable sensations to both of them.
"You're so beautiful," With every word he said, his thrusts would become intense, forcing pleasured sounds to leave her throat.
"Even when you do nothing, you're..." Here, he pulled out of her, leaving her empty, "...so..." one thrust inside, making her damn-near scream, "...Beautiful—" He ended it with a snarl and more relentless, almost brutal thrusts. She was so wet, making him in and out of her easily, and to her relief, it felt wonderful rather than painful.
She looked at him through her eyelashes and watched as sweat poured from his forehead with every thrust. She huffed a soft giggle of fluster at what he said, before she intentionally squeezed her insides and clamped down on his cōck in a hot, wet, hug.
This made him go crazy. Somehow, just when she thought he'd filled her with all he had, he plunged deeper and harder inside of her core, reaching an area that made her eyes roll back from euphoria. She moaned crazily as they moved in unison: he would pull back, and she would try to suck him in. When he thrust inside of her, she would squeeze onto him, trying to keep him inside of her.
"Ah... ngh..." Despite nearing their climax, they showed no sign of slowing down. With one hand, he would circle her clīt and then —
"...!" She slammed her head backwards, her panting lips opened to scream silently in pleasure. Her vision went black momentarily as she blissfully rode on the waves of her ōrgasm.
While she was writhing in pleasure, he ejaculated inside of her cūnt that enveloped him in a tight embrace. He muffled his groan by mouthing stubbornly at her collarbone. He slowed his thrusts down until he eventually stopped altogether after shooting the last drop of his semen into her hole. Once he was done, he would take his pēnis out slowly so he could savor her warmth when he could.
She lay beneath him tiredly once she'd come down from her high. Well, she was actually still riding the aftermath of it, but she was coherent enough to talk. Taking off his condom, she tied it up beautifully and placed it on the bedside drawer. He'd throw that condom into the bin later.
"Will you praise me, please?" She asked as she turned on her side. He watched her with soft eyes as she rested her head on his muscular chest when he laid on his back, next to her.
He may still be erect, but he wanted to hold her before another round of love-making. With the way his wife looked, all tired and sweaty, but well-loved and soft, how could he not want to hold her tight to his chest and whisper well-earned praises into her ears?
She purred in contentment as he stroked her just the way she liked it: from the top of her head, he would take his time in tracing a line down her thoroughly loved neck then make his way down her back, till he reached just above her buttocks and restarted all over again.
"Well..." He trailed off, teasing her as he settled an arm around her waist. She'd turn her head upwards to stare at him slyly. He crumbled under the weight of her stare —and the guilt, and the love he had for her— and so, with a wry smile, he stopped petting her so he could bundle her into his arms.
Chest to chest, with him naked and her, still in his shirt and her forgotten panties, he would whisper reverent praises into her ears. Praises that were only for her to hear in a moment like this.