Welldark Book 2 - Of all things expected
Who would I like to thank for the creation of this book?
Do I have a little poem that warrants showing?
What do I aim to supply to you, my readers?
There comes a time when work is done and one can lean back.
Just take a breath and take it in.
Right now, progress has been achieved.
The work is never done.
For me, however, this foreword is proof that a segment of it has been readied.
So, I hope you will enjoy this proof of my dedication.
So, I hope you are entertained between the hours of your own toil.
I would like to thank too many people for the creation of this book.
I don't think you are here for poetry.
And I hopefully supply the second part in a series you will want to keep following.
Funatic
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I woke up, as I usually did these days, on my side. Just a few weeks ago, I slept every night flat on my back. My once regular habit had turned to become the exception. Similarly, it was rare for the depth of my dreams to hold me for as long as they once had. Why would I wish to linger in my dreams, when reality had so much more to offer?
Three things rubbed against different parts of my body. Slightly tickling my nose, but primarily filling me with the scent of citrus and cherry, was the soft and wild black mane of Esther. A less pleasing sensation was that of her shirt between her back and my chest. Even now, she was more comfortable with it. Attempts to make her discard it advanced gradually. It took finely worded arguments and encouragements for her to try and many sweet nothings to distract her from herself.
I had no brainpower for any such words or maneuvers at the moment. The lifeblood that would have fueled such thoughts was concentrated in my morning wood. Against which, through no accident, the third thing grinded.
Esther's bubble butt slid up and down along my exposed length. Each motion urged me to hasten my awakening. Pleasure always had been and would be the most effective way to motivate me. My eyes flew open and I was met with amber, yellow tinted eyes. "Morning, my Karitas," she cooed. Her voice was like a taut silk string, wrapped seven times around me and pulling in the direction of her heart. It carried all of her affection for me and all of the sexiness of her dangerously gentle accent. It also carried with it a deep impatience. All mornings began with two of Esther's cravings. Both were hungers and one I was solely responsible for awakening. Gladly, I took the task of satiating that desire.
"Morning, my Esther," I whispered back and bowed over her to complete our morning ritual. Turning her head, she put her ruby red lips on offer. Our fingers intertwined. I once more staked my claim on all she was. It was just the two of us, together in the appropriately sized bed that completely filled my room.
Every day, I fell asleep here, with her nuzzled against me. Every day, she woke up before me. Every day, she woke me up, through gentle swaying and loving touches. Every day, we exchanged six words and a kiss.
From that kiss, I read what I would do next.
We started with a simple meeting of our lips. An almost innocent touch, a breath like a whisper, then the playful extension of her tongue. Soon the sounds of our breathing grew louder. Excited little gasps mingled with the smacking of our lips. My precum smeared on her flawlessly smooth skin, lubricating the gyration of her hips. Her hand reached over her shoulder and caressed the side of my face. Her teeth nibbled at my lower lip, a suggestion for me to do the same -- or something more. She didn't want to let me go, and invited me to fall even deeper into passion. I obliged.
The arm she had used as her pillow wrapped around her. I embraced her tightly. Very tightly. In the crevice of my elbow, I confined her neck. A pushing hand on my arm urged me to tense up a little more. I smirked, choking her while I reached down with my other hand.
I pulled away from the soft crevice between the spheres of her round bottom. A short sacrifice, made only so I could take hold of my cock and angle it properly. I was tempted to use her still virgin backdoor. A juvenile thought that passed through my hormone addled mind. No matter how passionate a morning, it was never appropriate to ram dry into a woman who had never felt that particular sort of pleasure. A little further and I found the distinguishing wetness of her pussy lips.
Esther's spine arched away from me when I penetrated her quivering quim. Our kiss ended with a silent shout on her part. Wide agape, her mouth shaped words that never passed them.
"You're so fantastically tight," I whispered into her ear, slowly advancing deeper into her. The virgin tightness she had possessed weeks ago had gone. What replaced it was a snug, wet embrace that readily accepted me first thing in the morning. Every fold of her soaked cunt gripped me, the muscles of her athletic form shifting past the slippery walls. My cock, a not-so-foreign object, was practically pulled inside. A delightful development, on all accounts.
The squishing of her bubble butt against my groin marked that I was as deep as I could be. I simply stopped, sheathed inside her as much as the position allowed. Morning wood typically meant I was exceptionally sensitive and I didn't want to cum too fast. Making her orgasm multiple times was the more desirable goal. To see her writhe was my joy. Optimally, my own release was either the last touch on a wonderful union or an occurrence in a prolonged session.
My hips remained unmoving, but my unoccupied left hand had plenty of chartered territory to explore once again. Starting at the bottom curve of her hourglass body, I travelled under her shirt and up the trembling side of her athletic midriff. Subtle muscles shifted under my fingers, until I reached further up. The firm proof of her healthy lifestyle was replaced by the abundant blessing of her alluring inheritance. I cupped her large breast, greedily sunk my fingers into the soft flesh until it spilled around them. A deep grunt was all that could escape Esther.
Her face was getting redder and redder from the asphyxiation I forced on her. A simple loosening of my hold allowed her to breathe. She squandered the precious air on a loud moan. I didn't need to look down to know that she was rubbing her clit. I could feel that massaging pressure distantly on my shaft. "You are a perfect, naughty nymphomaniac, were you aware of that, lady of my love?" She shuddered, my breath moving the hairs by her ear. "Impossible to believe you never even masturbated once before me."