Chapter Six

Raisa

He nurses me through the most intense orgasm of my life as I clutch his shoulders, then his hair, then the quilt, all while breathlessly apologizing for breaking his rule. My body spasms as my toes curl. When I’m not apologizing, wild, almost gurgling sounds bubble up from the back of my throat and my back bows off the bed.

I’m crying. One of my girlfriends told me she cried after sex with the man who eventually became her husband. Sounded like a fairytale to me, but I didn’t challenge her story.

I believe it now.

Instead of lying on my back and drifting into a drowsy nowhere place, I throw my arms around his neck and cling to him, tucking my head against his pec. I don’t want him to see me cry. He’ll probably just think what I thought about Emily, that I’m a little bit crazy and a lot dramatic.

He pulls me with him to lie crosswise on the bed as he croons about what a good girl I am and that he knows how hard I tried.

Who knew the words “good girl” would be the ultimate aphrodisiac?

Oh, the tenderness he shows as he slides those huge fingers through my hair and whispers in my ear. His cock is hard as stone and pressing against my belly, leaking precum on me. I’m so besotted, it’s all I can do not to slide down and lick it from his cock.

Perhaps there’s no need to jump the gun, that’s probably on the agenda next. I must have dozed for a moment, but he wakes me with a sweet forehead kiss.

“I want you to suck me, Raisa. Take me nice and deep. Deeper even than you think you can.”

I’ve never enjoyed sucking cock. Don’t like the taste of cock, definitely don’t like the taste of cum. In the past, I’ve used weaponized incompetence and a lackluster performance until the guy changes his mind and asks to fuck instead.

With Durga, I decide I’ll love the taste of his green skin and his cum and will learn to suppress my gag reflex. It’s possible. Perhaps I was just never sufficiently motivated before.

He positions himself at the head of the bed, sitting up against the headboard, then spreads his muscular thighs wide.

I focus on his cock for the first time. It’s green, towering, and huge, with thick veins running along its shaft, highlighting every ridge and curve.

It’s so big I’m not sure I’ll be able to wrap my hand around it. Sitting on my knees, my ass on my heels between his outspread legs, I look at him like that old picture of the dog looking at the Victrola.

I think the famous picture was called, “His Master’s Voice” or some such shit. But that’s me, actually waiting for permission for the privilege of sucking his cock. But damn, it’s a beauty.

“I changed my mind, Raisa. Don’t just suck my cock. I want you to make love to it with your mouth.”

This fills me with gratitude. Although my eagerness makes me hate myself a little bit, I can’t make my gratefulness go away.

“Are you going to thank me?”

Both a spike of hatred and a lightning strike of lust fly through me at the same moment.

A different Raisa would hate him, would walk out of the room calling him names for his sheer audacity, his arrogance. That was in the past. It’s the farthest thing from what I feel now.

Right now, I look him straight in his amber eyes and say with utmost gratitude and sincerity, “Thank you.”

He nods, a kingly gesture, for me to begin.

Reaching out, my hand doesn’t quite fit around it, but I grip it and skate my fingers along the hot, hard, green flesh. My gentle touch causes him to hiss in pleasure. If he’s going to reward me like that for my efforts, he’s going to get exactly what he asked for. I’m going to make love to his cock as though my life depends on it.

My grip tightens as I make one pass up and down, just hard enough to feel the silken outer skin and the harder structure underneath.

“Good.”

Oh yes. Keep doling out the goods and good girls and I’ll figure out a way to fit that monster all the way down my throat.

“May I… may I lick it?” I whisper, unable to hide how eager I am to taste the pearly bead on his tip.

“Yes.”

While my eyes were on him and off the prize, he pumped up another pretty, glossy drop which is now pooled in his glistening slit.

It doesn’t escape me that the way I bend to lick him is exactly how one would bow before a king.

His taste bursts on my tongue, a salty-sweetness that floods my senses. Immediately, I feel a ripple of pleasure run through me. My nipples tighten and my core pulses.

I take another taste, licking with the flat of my tongue, then delving into the depths of his slit, seeking more than he’s already allotted me.

My channel spasms with need as I revel in the scent, taste, and feeling of this powerful man bestowing his essence on me.

His hands thread through my hair as he sighs with pleasure.

“That’s it.” He comments. “Keep going… keep drinking from me.”

As I please him like this, I’m filled with a sense of power. It’s interesting that this feeling of strength exists all while I’m being completely submissive to his every whim. It continues long after I swallow his last drop of pre-cum, and his hands untangle from my hair. When he nudges me with a hand in my hair and I pull my head up to look into his eyes, his gaze is filled with a satisfaction that I can only take as approval.

“You’ve had your taste, now pleasure my shaft.”

I bend lower, my tongue tracing down his length, licking, exploring, and savoring every single ridge and vein.

After alternating between flat licks and long ones, I tease the tip of his cock just enough to make him groan in pleasure yet not enough to send him over the edge too soon.

“Watch me.” His tone is calm, instructive, in that deep bass rumble of his.

Immediately, my gaze goes to him. My master’s voice, I think again as I open my mouth as wide as it will go and ease onto his plump head.

My lips stretch, covering my teeth as I work against nature and physics to fit him inside me.

Despite his girth, I have him deeper than I’ve ever had anyone. I guess all it took was proper incentive. I hang onto his gaze as if it’s a lifeline as I try to breathe and take him deeper.

His gaze stays with me. Right when my eyes fly wide, when I feel as though I’m choking, he pulls mostly out and praises me as he strokes my head like a favorite pet.

Instead of being terrified, I want to try again, but he stops my forward progress when I get close to where I panicked a moment ago.

“You tried hard. Now stay shallow, use your hands, and make me come.”

He’s so kind to me.

“I want to try again.”

“And you’re so good to say that. Another time, Raisa.”

I shiver in pleasure at his praise, then wrap my lips around him again, sliding up and down as I pay attention to his tells. His gasps, the way he grips my head harder, the way his hips thrust into me, all reward me, telling me I’m making him feel good. I feel myself getting wetter with each passing second.

His thrusts stay shallow, but pick up speed until his body shudders and he gives a victorious grunt as he comes, shooting his hot liquid in forceful waves toward the back of my throat.

I revel in the taste of his cum, letting it linger on my tongue before swallowing a final gulp. His salty sweetness delivers waves of pleasure I can’t ignore.

I savor him, his power, and the enjoyment of being able to please him.

He pulls away and gives me a satisfied nod before pulling me up to straddle his thighs. In that moment, I realize the ultimate gift is not physical pleasure or satisfaction but granting him pleasure without expecting anything in return.