Chapter notes:
A storm, the joy of the marriage bed and... well... you'll find out.
Rated NC17
Warning: Rough, consensual graphic sex.
The Diary
GF 68 - Lightning
Timeline RotM – Chapter 47
*If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times, we need a drop bar on our door! Now, we’ll finally get one! Béma! If she asks one more soul if they sleep naked, I will die a thousand deaths!*
The storm approached, slowly, on silent feet, creeping closer to the expanding homestead on the hill.
However, the couple in the bed was unmindful of the encroaching storm. Heavy breathing, the sound of flesh meeting flesh…
Oh yeah, baby…
You like?
Yessssss….
Quietly, the electricity built in the sky.
Simultaneously, it built in the dark room…
Oh baby, you feel so good…
Deeper…. C’mon… deeeeeper…
You like it deep?
Yesssssssssssss…
Legs were bent, pressed up into a willing body by hands holding tight. The continued sound of skin on skin drowned out the building storm outside the window.
You like this, don’t you?
Hmm hmmm…
Come on… talk to me…tell me what you want….
Just… fuck me. Fuck me hard.
The first bolt forked across the sky, lighting it up for a split second as if it were midday. Yet the couple in the bed was unaware, too wrapped up in each other.
Ride me.
Yesssssssssssss…
A leg was thrown over a willing body, a hot, slick, engorged shaft thrust into willing, wet heat. The rider’s hand crept up a susceptible, heated torso, stroking a strong neck before reaching the hairy jawline, thumb, fingertips stroking, teasing the sensitive bottom lip, the tips finding their way into yet another, hot cavern.
Another heated crack in the sky, lighting the room for a moment, outlining the rider, a woman perched, long dark hair unbound and thrown back, and caressing the rough, calloused hands that dug into the soft, well rounded flesh, before smacking it firmly, the sound drowned out by the following thunder bolt.
Feed me.
The strong hand so forcefully kneading the soft rounded flesh, moved up to the head, pulling it down. As the proffered and requested flesh was lowered, soft mounds were pressed together, causing the rider to hiss as both nipples were sucked into a solitary, wet mouth.
Gaaaaaah….
You like that…
Baby this feels so good…
Again, lightning forked through the sky, lighting the room, illuminating the rider, not bouncing so hard, as much as rocking…
Eventually, hands that kneaded a firm arse, pushed upwards.
Sit on my face…
Are you nuts? I’ll smother you!
The answer was incredulous, mocking. The one on bottom smacked the arse firmly.
No you won’t. Do it. Sit On My Face!
Quickly the rider moved upwards, settling on a willing mouth that clamped down on delicate, delectable flesh, causing the rider to buck once… twice…
OH FUCK! THAT’S GOOD!
Snickering could be heard under the rider’s body.
Such language! What would the king say?
The rider slid from her partner’s face. Kissing it, licking her juices from his mouth.
He’d ask to join in!
Ooooh no don’t go there!
Laughter…
Is this a story you don’t wish to tell me?
No story. No. Honest. A pelvic thrust… please?
A diversion. Reciprocation… a searing mouth wrapped around equally burning flesh…
Again, lightning lit the room, bathing the room in an eerie light, grotesque shadows on the wall, ignored by the players in the bed.
Hands in hair.
Stop. Not yet. Pulling up. I want it deep…
Quickly she was on her hands and knees.
Come on baby… do it…
A knee thrust between two pliant legs, pushing them further apart. Again, an engorged member was thrust hard into a willing cave, hands found two firm mounds, hands spanning, thumbs spreading the crevice, wide. The storm had begun in earnest outside, thunder now joining the lightning, radiance filling the room with flashes of intensity, of heat, electricity.
You like it deep…
Yessssss…
Again, the sound of flesh pounding flesh overrode the sound of the storm. Fingers from one hand found the roots of hair, grasping, clutching like reins, the other caressing the globe of flesh where flesh was joined.
Harder baby please. It feels so good.
You going to cum?
Yesyesyes harder…pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeassssssssse…
They were unaware of the storm.
Unaware there was more…
There was a ‘pop’…
Yeah baby…
You like that?
Oh yeah baby…
*pop*
Harder?
Oh yeah baby, smack that arse…
Lightning…
“Mama? Da? What ARE you doing?”
Gamling collapsed on Aefre, covering her, throwing the quilt over the two of them and squishing things that did not need to be squished in the process. He squeaked painfully and Aefre’s heart squeezed for him.
“Léoma?” Both tried to cover themselves, unable to tell if they were, the quilt was flying everywhere. “Is something wrong, honey?” Aefre tried to sound as if nothing were wrong. Gamling however, was in the throes of crushed…
Their three-year-old daughter stood in the doorway, lightning showing her disgusted face. “The storm scareded me so I was going to sweep wit you. But you’re naked and playing horsie.” She turned her back to them and headed out the door. “Cretins.”
Aefre’s head hit the mattress and Gamling rolled from her, hands between his legs, groaning miserably.
The next morning, while the carpenter attached a drop bar to the master bedroom of the house, under Gamling’s limping visage, Aefre was forced to divert her daughter, who asked everyone who would listen if they slept naked and played horsie…
