Celeste's reply and we have very different sexual experiences
Scorpius1945
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Author's notes:
1. This is a work of fiction. The activities and practices described in this story are not necessarily either condoned or recommended. If you choose to do anything described in real life with real people you do so at your own risk.
2. All characters are fictional and any likeness to any living person is purely coincidental. The story is purely imaginary and, to the author's knowledge, bears no relationship to any factual occurrence.
3. For those who haven't yet read the previous chapters, I suggest you read them to provide context before continuing with this chapter. I am open to suggestions about where you would like this story to go, if you wish to comment. Thanks.
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I tied off the laces and tucked them away as Celeste placed her hands around her slim waist and admired her form in the mirror.
"Only a couple more inches before my fingers touch," she said, turning to look into my eyes, "Thank you for your support in helping me reach my goals, darling."
"That's quite Ok, honey, it's what fiancés do, even ones who haven't officially been appointed yet."
She turned to me and hugged me, burying her face in my chest and began sobbing.
"Honey, I'm sorry. I know you need time to think but the hope and tension of not knowing is really getting to me," she replied. I hoped my comment wasn't pushing away the one person I loved most.
She stepped back and took my hand, leading me to the sofa, where we sat alongside each other as she composed herself. Eventually she spoke.
"I thought I'd lost you," she began, "Last week you seemed to ignore me and give all your love and attention to Margarite. I saw what she was doing; keeping me sexually satisfied with a vibrator while she took away the love of my life for herself. I felt my sexual desire decrease as she systematically numbed my clit, while fucking you like there was no tomorrow." She buried her face against my chest once more, sobbing and mumbling: "I thought I'd lost you, darling, I really did."
"Sweetheart, I love you; I proposed to you because I want us to be together forever. I'm sorry; I didn't realize what Margarite was doing to you, to us. I promise I won't work with her again. It wasn't love between us; she was a client, and a very well-paying client at that. $50k for a week of skiing and having fun wasn't bad; far better than we'd have earned if we'd stayed home."
"Yes, darling, I know all that, I know she's your best client, I'd hate for you to lose her, but not as much as I'd hate for me to lose you. I know I should have given you an answer way before now, but I just can't seem to make the commitment and, at the same time, I just can't seem to let you go. I'm afraid to say yes but will not say no because I might lose you. So, I seem to be stuck in limbo. Why can't we just continue as we are? I know many people who are wonderful partners to each other until they marry, then they change, seemingly overnight, and they part a few months later. Marriage doesn't always mean happily ever after. I don't want us like that; I want what we have now to continue, forever."
I stayed silent for a long time, simply holding her, feeling her body quieten as she rested against me. I knew she was through the worst as she began stroking my cock through my undershorts. It felt wonderful, as usual, and he hardened up quickly. She stayed resting against me as she repositioned my swollen appendage so the head was poking over the edge of the elastic. She used her thumb to spread the precum over the head.
I looked down her body, seeing her nipples redden and harden on her breasts. I slipped my free hand between her thighs, which she spread welcomingly, and ran my finger up her trench, feeling the wetness of her arousal. She moaned softly.
"That feels so nice, darling," she whispered in my ear, "Towards the end of the week I missed you so much, honey. I was sexually exhausted from cumming on the vibe but I needed your body against me, but it seemed that bitch had you under her spell. So, it's wonderful feeling you feeling me again."
She used her other hand to cup my balls through the thin cloth, massaging them and moving them in their sac, which always felt wonderful. My mind inevitably returned to the last time they'd been massaged, by Margarite. I viewed the whole saga of our week skiing, seeing how she'd taken me away from Celeste, the love of my life, and seeing how willingly and completely I'd fallen for her feminine wiles. Celeste was right; another few days and my brainwashing would possibly have been complete; I would have belonged to Margarite as surely as if she'd purchased me as a slave on a block. So close; I came so close to rejecting Celeste and staying with that siren.
Celeste moved, tilting her head upwards, her silent request for a kiss, which I gave freely and gratefully, our tongues entwining as our passion mounted. She broke the kiss and lowered her head, watching as she pulled my undershorts down, assisted by me lifting my ass off the sofa. She then straddled me, sandwiching my rampant cock between our bodies as she pressed her breasts into my chest, kissing me fervently, passionately, almost frantically, as though to reassure herself that I was real, that this moment was real.
I moved my hand over her, feeling the tension in her corset as I ran my hand over the laces I had so recently tightened. Then downwards until I caressed the globes of her ass cheeks, feeling lower, between them, the heat of her arousal in the wet cleft, so hungry for my rampant cock. I lifted her up and, while she held me around my neck, I slowly lowered her onto my waiting spike, feeling myself entering her welcoming tunnel, followed by the sensation of her walls pressing against the length of my shaft, the sensation increased by the compression of her tight corset, until finally I was completely engulfed, the root of my cock pressed firmly against her clit, the head pressed into the yielding end of her capacious cunt. We sat like that for a long time, her head resting on my shoulder, her body pressed against mine as we held each other tightly.
Whether it was deliberate or not, I felt her sheath contracting and releasing around my cock, causing subtle but persistent arousal. I became even harder and felt myself pressing further into her as she began a very slow and rhythmic movement with her hips, stimulating her clit against me while stimulating my cock with her slight movements. It took maybe half an hour before we progressed further, during which time we renewed our sexual and emotional wordless communication, becoming, once again, the sexual couple we had been before last week's activities and my attempted hijacking by Margarite.
It was Celeste who broke the spell, moving away from me slightly, placing greater pressure on our point of conjunction, as she began moving her hips further and faster. I responded by holding her ass as I lifted her up a few inches and then plunged her downwards, pounding my cock once more into her willing, slippery receptacle. In a very few minutes we were both ready to give our ultimate expression of love to each other. As I was almost unable to hold on any longer, Celeste leant back further and began trembling and shaking, moaning between closed lips as her release approached. I let go, my cum spurting hard and deep inside her, pushing her into an even stronger orgasm as she screamed her ecstasy to the four walls, then leant against me, her clit pressing hard onto the root of my cock as she moaned for several minutes until her orgasm tapered off.
Then we were still. She lay against me, resuming the wordless, loving communication as our bodies returned to rest. After a long time, during which I felt my cock wither inside her occasionally spasming sheath, she looked up and kissed me. Again, we tongue wrestled for a short time, then she broke away and gazed at me, as though seeing me for the first time.
"That's the Hank I remember. Thank you, honey, thank you for returning to me after your escapades with the bitch. I know, she was just a client and it was just money, but this is love; true love; love I want forever. Yes, darling, I'll most definitely marry you, be your wife, have your children, but on one condition."
My heart leapt with joy; she'd accepted me, the love of my life had agreed to marry me. I wondered what the condition was, but I knew that regardless of what it was, I would accept.
"Thank you, darling, that's absolutely wonderful." I bent my head and we kissed again, long and lovingly. Once the kiss ended, she grinned up at me.
"Don't you want to know the condition?" she asked.
In my joy I'd already forgotten the condition. I nodded.
"The condition is that we stay as we are in our relationship. That neither of us becomes possessive of the other. It is possessiveness, the feeling of ownership that marriage can confer, that is the reason for so many break ups. I don't own you; you don't own me. Neither of us can tell the other what to do or what not to do unless the other permits that. We can have sex with whoever we like, whenever we like, wherever we like, provided that we reserve our love for each other only. So, sex is sex but love is just for us. If you want, you can invite a third person into our bed, as can I; we can even extend the relationship to polyamory if you wish, but our real love is for each other, only, although other partners may enjoy a lesser love from us. That is my condition."
I remained silent, considering Celeste's condition for accepting engagement and, ultimately, marriage. I could see her point; restricting marriages were probably the main cause of their failure. Then I considered it pragmatically: If I agreed, we would have an unknown length of very special time together and with others; if I did not accept the condition, then that would probably start the rift that would result in our premature breakup. There was only one possible answer.
I bent my head again and we kissed, sexily. "Yes, sweetheart, I accept your condition and look forward to a long and exciting married life together. Now, when do you want the big day?"
She grinned up at me, almost as though she'd known all along that I'd accept her condition.
"It'll have to be in the summer because I want to be naked when I marry you, and it won't be a private ceremony but on a public beach. So, there'll be people around to watch us marry each other and to watch us consummate our marriage immediately afterwards. So, to avoid being arrested, I suggest we return to the beach we visited after our circus interlude."
"An excellent idea," I agreed immediately, relieved that I wouldn't be spending my wedding night in lock up.