Part 3 in this tale. The morning after. Thank you for those who enjoyed this kinky adventure.
Andrew finally awoke in the early morning, the sun had not yet been rising, save for the orange lights of the early flames of the orb casting through the window. The warm fleshy sensation bothered him when he awoke, rather, his boxer briefs were still on. Good. Had enough sense to put those on before he finally retired after being made a, he dared not even think of the word, to Isabella, whose arms rolled under and over him. One of her hands was right by his waist, while the other rested over his peck like a breast was supposed to be there, the red painted nails scratched him gently. A breast was not supposed to be there, thank God, there wasn't one.
But to say that was the most disconcerting thing would be putting it lightly, for a giant rod of meat was pushed through his legs, and it was sternly placed. Unsure if Isabella woke up with the morning wood, or what have you, or if she was awake or a sleep, or should any good nature in the world that was the reality he didn't want to accept, she was perpetually erect. Which was of course ridiculous, but why in anyone's name he dares mutter, was she not wearing any pajamas, or panties? Even no shirt, he knew, the warmth of her chest brushing beside him, the nipples pressed against him like dirty little pillows. It was like a bat was between her legs, and greatly caused him to question his manhood.
It was after all in question since Isabella already came numerous times into his wife, Emma, who apparently was already with child, Isabella's child. Not his. Of such reality, he was going to have too---how was child custody going to work? Goodness, another way in which Isabella found herself grafted into Andrew's family, that, despite his best efforts still wanted nothing to do with, despite her being intimately friendly and violent towards him in more ways than one. His marriage, he loved Emma, but this, this was far too much.
He felt a movement in the bed with the squeaks of the iron spirals that made the bed on which he laid. Isabella's cock moved gently, twitching as it pressed hard against his testicles, and he moved gently up, her warm hand removing itself from his pec, making its way down the side of his body. Chilling, he gritted his teeth as he tried to roll away, had her hand not already reached into his briefs, and grabbed both the base of his dick, and his balls, squeezing tightly. An index finger, he felt, scratching the bottom of his scrotum, and he wanted to yelp.
"Good morning," she spoke sensually into his ear, a tongue licking his earlobe. Blood pumped into his penis, but her grip kept it from flowing all the way to the tip. "Someone's excited this morning, but we haven't had breakfast yet. Do you want something?"
"I'm going too--"
"I brewed something special for you," she said, now biting his ear. "Come on."
She and he sat up, and he wanted to leave the bed, which he jumped off promptly to head to the wardrobe to grab his own attire, to be free from her just a moment, had not a cold voice entered the room with her disappointment. "It's not polite to deny gifts, Andrew," her cold voice brought him to a stop. "Come here, Andrew, I have something for you."
Turning awkwardly, he saw her, leaning forward with an elbow propping her chin up from her knee, and the long wood drooping down to the floor, already, precum dripped out of it. She's insatiable! He thought as a mouth dropped open, and she took her free hand and pointed at him, before curling the finger to motion him to come hither, and so, reluctantly, he did with quavering steps, and a quavering mind.
"I brewed you with lots of protein, you need to be big and strong, Andrew," she said, pointing downwards and without another moment of hesitation, he dropped on his knees bowing. He didn't look up to her, but a voice of chuckles escaped her lips as blood flowed to the tip, flicking it into his face, striking his upper lip, and the sensation for such a tap, though couldn't be considered gentle, was like taking a hammer to his jaw. "Go on, Andrew, don't be coy with me."
He remembered.
She slapped hard. He didn't want that, so he did what he didn't want to, and took here cock in his hands and brought it to his lips. That was what Isabella wanted after all. His tongue swirled, he closed his eyes as the sweetness of her precum touched his lips, and he pushed himself further down the shaft. Inch by inch, it grew, and the warmth of his saliva coated it, and when he felt the mushroom tip touch the back of his throat, his tongue pushed on it. His eyes opened with a blushing Isabella, and a sly look on her face, and she pushed her pelvis gently, easing her dick down his throat, pressing against his windpipes. Gagging, he fought for even the faintest of air, and some did relieve him of this stress, as her hand took him by the hair and pulled him to her pelvis, where some pubic hair was growing.
