Can't Buy Me Love

Part 16: Ferry Cross The Mersey

You awoke with a feeling of a hot heavy weight atop you.

His eyes flitted up.

"Oh, hello luv!"

He sounded somewhat annoyed, though drowsily so.

"Ugh." You said. "Where am I? What's going on?"

You began to blush bright red. Your nightgown was rolled up above your tits, and there was Paul laid atop you, sucking your tit. Seemed he was at it awhile, both of them were damp.

"Well, I'm not having a great morning, thanks for asking!" Paul snapped snippily. "I suck and I suck, yet you stubbornly refuse to yield milk. If I didn't find some solace in the action of latching itself, I'd be pretty displeased to tell the truth!"

You felt butterflies in your stomach. You couldn't help but feel attracted to his snippiness. Such a princess... so temperamental, enslaved by his whims.

He made an annoyed "tsk" sound, so true to his mannerisms.

He spoke flatly and plainly, still annoyance in his tone.

"At this rate, I'll either have to get you on hormones, or knock you up."

You began to blush at the very idea.

Paul murmured on to himself.

"Ugh. But then I'd have to deal with a baby. It's not like you're even my girlfriend, or much less a wife. You're my property, I don't see you as a full person, really. A child from you would be worthless to me."

He rolled his eyes, not satisfied. He sighed, resignedly.

"Well, I'll figure something out."

He switched his attention back to you. You blushed.

"Well, luv." He began, flirtatiously, finger running up your arm. "Anyhow, I couldn't help but notice I forgot to put you in your crate for the night... yet you were such a good girl for me. Staying in the bed and not escaping like a naughty bad girl."

You blushed, batting your eyelids. He was such a dominant man. The tone of his voice was rich like honey chocolate, so sensual.

Neither of you had thought it. After the rough, passionate, unrestrained lovemaking that left the windows steamed up and several wet spots on the wall and ceiling that'd undoubtedly grow mold, you had passed right out, him snoring like an old cat, long limbs weighing you down.

He brought his lips closer, his eyes lidding, almost kissing you, but not quite. He spoke low, hardly moving them, breathy and irresistible.

"It's like spoiling a puppy though, If I let you sleep in the bed too much, you'll get into the habit. And we don't want that, do we...?"

"Arf arf." You barked, amorous.

He rubbed his nose against yours in a (apparently a slur now but he still uses it often in his most recent album) kiss.

"There's my good girl~" He purred.

He pulled off, right when you would get to taste the divinity of his sensual lips, sitting up in the bed, revealing his pretty white nightgown and wanger erection.

"Well luv!" He said, happily. "I've got morning wood like an oak tree, and there's no point of a mail order broad if I don't get my morning blowie."

Paul spread his legs, revealing his glistening furry cunt. It was so fragrant and heavenly, the slick from the vaginal opening having transferring onto his soft inner thighs.

"Oooh... muffin... you weren't kidding about being randy." You said, face blushing and eyelashes fluttering.

"Well luv." Paul purred. "It's not gonna suck itself."