Grant and Irina

God, I was practically about to go off a second time.

"No touching," Grant rumbled, grabbing the back of my head in a forceful grip. "Good girl. Now open your mouth."

With a deep, shivering breath, I opened wide. Grant buckled his hips forward and guided his cock towards my waiting maw. I reeled in confusion when his penis slapped me across the cheek, but he kept my head locked in place. Another slap, this time across my forehead. He slowly dragged his cock over my face, roughly smearing out the remnants of my makeup. I felt my ponytail loosen, and then a light but commanding jerk when Grant balled up my hair in his fist. He pulled my head forward towards his cock, and the only thing I could do was follow. I opened my mouth again, even wider this time, all while feeling increasingly dirty. On my knees, cunt leaking, face smeared with makeup and spit and mouth hungrily gaping for cock. But I liked it. No, I fucking loved it. I stretched out my tongue and reached for the tip of his cock. It was just out of reach. Fat and swollen, almost purple with blood. Grant brought it closer, nudging my nose. I faced upwards and made a bid for it with my lips, missing by a hair's breadth. Grant chuckled deeply. "You want it badly, don't you?" I nodded, opening my mouth again. Believe it or not, it was watering with anticipation. Grant pulled my head away. "Oh?" he said loudly, "I don't think I heard. What did you say?"

"I want it."

"Louder."

"I want your cock," I said. It was far louder than I would ever be comfortable uttering such a statement. But if it pleased Grant, I was ready to do it, neighbours be damned.

"Good," he said. "Then open up."

With those words, he shoved his cock in my mouth. Just a bit -- barely a third -- but enough to keep me occupied. My tongue leaped into action, swirling across his flesh, and I sucked in my cheeks, forming an airtight seal around his pulsating member. I began bobbing my head back and forth, and Grant's grip of my hair tightened. With a grunt, he began fucking my mouth.

Looking back at it, he was very gentle. He held my head tight and he rammed his cock deep into my mouth with repeated thrusts, but never enough to choke me or hurt me. I am sure he could have if he wanted. And even though I felt completely at his mercy, I didn't for a moment feel scared. Weak, maybe, but safe. And so fucking horny. When his grunts and moan became louder and more frequent, I was practically gushing with pride and lust. Spit was leaking down my chin and dripping onto my breasts in long, slimy strands. My hand found its way down between my legs. This time he didn't stop me, and I could furiously finger myself while he pleasured himself with my mouth. My jaws were aching, and time and time again I gagged when he shoved his massive cock too deep inside my mouth. But I endured. My hand and his roughness -- and the very knowledge of his enjoyment -- almost did it for me a second time.

Grant came suddenly, taking me off guard. A loud, primal grunt erupted from him as his entire body tensed, and he grabbed my almost painfully by the hair as he stayed his cock inside my mouth. Credit where credit is due -- he didn't shove it down my throat, although I am sure he would have liked to. Instead he left only his cockhead inside my ravaged mouth when he erupted. His cock seemed to swell, and I could feel the pressure surge within it. He throbbed: once, twice; and then a wave of hot, thick liquid filled my mouth. It came in spurts, one after the other, coating my tongue and the back of my throat. The salty, slightly chemical taste of semen mixed with the scent of his sweat and overpowered my senses, almost making me gag. But I refused to spit it out -- I wanted to have everything he gave to me. With my lips tightly wrapped around his cockhead, I hurriedly swallowed every last drop he fed to me. It clogged up my throat, but I devoured him anyway. It was his very life essence he was giving me, and I would be damned if I let it go to waste.

At last the wave petered out. Grant squeezed his cock a couple of times from root to coaxing the last few drops into my mouth. I swallowed them too. Then, when his cock finally emerged from my mouth -- slimy, shiny and with a long strand of spittle drooping from it -- I allowed myself to fill my lungs. I gasped, hungrily breathing in the bedroom air as if I had just been saved from drowning. Grant sat down on bed, and I saw that his chest was heaving to. It made me smile with pride.

My knees were stiff and achy when I got up, and I had just enough strength and balance to collapse on the bed net to Grant. My hair spread out in a black mess over the sheets, gluing to my sweaty skin and sticky face. A strand got in my mouth, but I barely cared to remove it. I didn't quite orgasm that time. But the sheer knowledge of Grant's pleasure -- pleasure that I was responsible for -- had been enough to push me to the very edge. Hand resting on my breast, I rolled over on my back, finding Grant's eyes. He didn't say anything to me. He simply smiled tiredly and gave my breast a squeeze. For a long time we just stayed in bed -- him sitting, me laying down -- saying nothing to each other. We didn't need to. I closed my eyes and listened to my heartbeat slowing down. Even as my sweat cooled, I felt very warm and cosy on the bed. I reached out and touched his strong leg and began stroking him back and forth. Grant sighed. "Don't want to be a buzz-killer," he said wistfully," but I need to go and take a piss,"

I giggled like a schoolgirl. "Do you have to?"

"Unless you're into watersports. Are you?"

I gave his leg a playful slap. "I'm not ready for that kind of debauchery yet. Go."

The bed shifted as he got up, and then I heard his feet smacking across the floor. Alone, I sprawled lazily across my bed. Brushing away my hair, I peered at the window through half-closed eyes. The sun seemed to still be high up in the sky, but I realized I had no idea what the time was. My phone was in my bag, and I didn't have any clocks in my bedroom. I instinctively shifted, as if preparing to get up, but remained where I was. I felt warm, and far too comfortable amidst the sheets to move. After several seconds of contemplation, I realized that the time didn't matter. I didn't care. I had nowhere to go, and nothing else to do. No, my place was here.

My mind was whirling when I rolled over on my stomach and buried my face in a pillow. God, I had sucked Grant's cock. His big, fat American cock had damn near dislocated my jaw, but I had managed it. I could still taste him. His cum too. I had been nearly overwhelmed by the amount of it, and its taste still lingered in my mouth. So much. So many millions of sperm had been drained from his balls and were now warming my belly. It felt so dirty thinking about it. Dirty, but oh so satisfied. I had dreamed about it. So many hours spent writing emails filled with smut, and now it was reality. Some of it, at least.

I groaned into the pillow, and felt the anger and disappointment return to me. Sure I knew about situations where penetration had been troublesome. Even impossible. The guy is too big, or the girl is to dry. It happens. But I hadn't been dry: I had been wetter and hornier than I had ever been in my life. And while Grant was big -- like really big -- I had thought it would stop us. But it had.

Fuck.

I heard Grant's step and opened my eyes just in time to see him come up to the bed. He towered high above me. His cock hung limp between his legs, but even while flaccid, it was impressive. Looking at it, I could barely believe that I had managed to get even part of it into my mouth. On the other hand, I could very much believe that he hadn't been able to shove it inside of my pussy. I groaned again.

"What is it?" Grant asked curiously.

"Nothing."

Grant sat down on the bed again. His hand found my ass and gave it a hard squeeze. I grimaced but refused to move. "You look awfully down in the dumps," Grant said, letting go of my cheek. I didn't check, but I was sure that it was now marked by three deep red imprints. "Especially for someone in your position."

"Oh?" I said, raising my head slightly. "And what position is that?"

"Well, you're in bed with me for starters."

"Ha ha." I worded dryly, but there was no fighting the smile. "You're truly Gods gift to women everywhere."

"I know."

I sighed. "Well, I guess you are."

The mattress creaked as Grant laid down. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he came to rest on his stomach next to me. His big hand reached out and moved the hair obscuring my face, gently arranging the offending tresses behind my ear. "So," Grant said, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"Is this about my cock being a tight fit for your pussy?"

The calm, completely straight-forward way he said it made me blush. It's strange, isn't it, that after all which we had just done to each other, I still retained the capacity to blush? I glared at Grant. "You're one of those 'straight onto the point' people, huh?"

"That's me. So?"

"So what?"

"So what are you upset about?" he said, smiling warmly. His left arm wrapped around my back and pulled me closer to him until our sides were pressing together. "You think you're the first girl this happened to?"

"I guess not," I muttered. "You are... well equipped."

Grant laughed. He laughed so loud that I am sure that my neighbours heard him. But on the other hand, did it even matter, considering the other sounds they must have heard? I couldn't help but smirk myself. "That's the first time I've heard someone say it like that," Grant said at last. But you're right. I am well equipped, and you're not the first. I have had that problem more often than not."

"No shit," I said. "I'm surprised you ever manage at all."

"It usually works out."

The room fell silent. His body felt warm -- hot, almost -- next to mine. I could feel his heartbeat reverberating through his chest. It was slow but strong, a rhythmic thump. I let myself lean against his shoulder, pressing my cheek against his skin. Grant's hand, still slung over my slender back, gently caressed my side. We still said nothing, and I realized that I enjoyed the silence. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to simply lose myself in the intimate closeness.

"Have you thought about it?" Grant asked softly.

"About what?" I murmured.

"You know what."

It dawned on me. My heart took a jump in my chest. "Ah," I said, "That." I pushed myself up on my elbows and looked at Grant. He was smiling, but his gaze was keen and inquisitive. Unable to keep eye contact I began gathering up my hair into a tail, tugging nervously at it.

Here it was. The question. The one I had thought about more than anything else. The one thing which could be the biggest mistake of my life or... or something else.

"Yeah," I said finally. "I have been thinking about it. And I..." I trailed off. My hands tensed as I forced them to stop fumbling with my hair. "And I don't know. I'm not sure. But... I think I want to."

"I'd be happy to oblige. I've often thought about it, Irina."

"Yeah, me too."

"I would consider it an honour."

"You're such a gentleman," I said wryly. "You've got the easiest part of it."

"True," Grant said with a smirk. "But that doesn't make it any less of an honour." He pulled me even closer, and suddenly our faces very inches apart. "I'm very glad to have met you, Irina."

"Me too," I blurted. "To have met you, I mean."

"Right," he chuckled, and I felt his chest rumble against mine. "We're both happy, then. And I want to make sure to mark our meeting in a way which both of us will remember. I want to give you a baby, Irina."

Jesus. I had known what he would say. In fact, I had waited for it. Emotions, dormant until now, came flowing from the depths of my soul and radiated through me. Fear and happiness, excitement and anxiety. They almost overwhelmed me. I rubbed my eyes while drawing a deep, trembling breath. I was on the verge of crying. "Mhm," I mewled quietly.

By all logic it was a mistake. It was one -- albeit already stupid thing -- to be hooking up with a man from half around the world. But to willingly have his child... insanity. Utterly complete and barking madness. Grant and I would never be married. We would never even live together. Our relationship -- if you could even call it that -- was purely sexual. There was nothing else to it. No emotion except pure, primal desire. I was single. My last real relationship had been almost a year ago. To saddle myself with a child and become a single mother... why? Why would I ever do that? It was stupid and irresponsible, and abysmally dumb.

But I wanted it. Jesus, I did. Some part of me, completely detached from all semblance of logic, demanded it.

"Irina?" Grant said kindly.

"Mm?" I whimpered.

"Go take a shower. You're a bit of a mess, you know. You'll feel better afterwards."

"Okay," I said after a long silence and gave a little nod. "I guess... that's a good idea."

"That's my girl," Grant said, patting me on the butt. "Now get your cute ass moving, huh?"

I got out of bed, feeling light-headed when I stood too quickly. On wobbly feet I made way to the bathroom and surveyed myself in the mirror. I looked like I had been walking in the rain: sweat had left streaks of mascara across my cheeks and around my eyes; the lipstick was smeared all over my chin, and the foundation had been all but washed off. My hair was a wild mess. My eyes wandered downward, and I noticed the marks on my breasts -- strikingly red against my white skin. His hands and teeth. Turning halfway in front of the mirror, I could confirm that my ass was in a similar state. Chuckling absent-mindedly to myself, I washed my face in cold water and wiped it off with a towel. The face which met my gaze moments later looked a bit tired, but no longer like a sad clown. Or like someone who had been so recently been face-fucked by a huge cock. My mouth was still dry after swallowing Grant's load, and I drank deeply from the faucet to wash it all down.

Feeling better, I stepped into the shower stall. When I was a girl, I had always loved playing in bathtubs, and that love had stuck with me since. However, the reality of adult life -- and the reality of my apartment -- had forced me to abstain from the ol' tub. Right now I really missed it. I could have filled it up with hot water and foamy soup, and just soaked in it for a good hour or two. Grant could even have joined me. I sighed and turned on the water. Hot currents splashed down from the shower head, and I almost jumped out of it. I forced myself to stay, and soon the heat went from unpleasant to merely hot. Closing my eyes, I let the heat slowly make its way into my body. Grant was right -- I was already feeling more relaxed.

My mind, however, refused to rest. How could it, with my entire world being so... unusual. I shook my head, sending water splashing against the frosted wall panels. It felt like a dream. If not for the reality of it all -- the shower panes under my feet, the hot water on my skin, and the lingering pleasure of Grant's caresses -- I might have even believed it was a dream. My hand slipped between my legs, and I felt my pussy. It was still tender to touch. I brushed against my clit, nudging it teasingly, and breathed out as a tingle of pleasure shot out from my sex. Grant. Jesus fucking Christ Grant, what had you done to me? His words spun in my head, impossible to ignore.

A baby. Grant wanted to give me a baby. And what made it all so much crazier was that I wanted it. We had talked about it many, many times. Like everything else in our relationship, it had been fantasies at first. Filthy, smutty fantasies. Risky unprotected sex with a stranger. Dangerous, but oh so exhilarating. Sex reduced to its most primal essence: the creation of new life. My imagination flashed from one scene to another. His seed deep inside of me fertilizing my egg; me, with a belly growing heavy with child; me, with a baby my suckling my milk-laden breasts. I can't explain why I wanted it. It was completely illogical -- no, stupid.

But I wanted it. I wanted it so much.

I gasped in surprise when the door panel slipped aside. Lost in my own dreams, I hadn't even noticed Grant entering the room. But there he was, standing outside the shower stall. Smiling, he gestured to me, "Make some room."

"I thought you'd already showered."

I instinctively covered my breasts, and it took me a second or two to realize how dumb I must have looked. And sounded, for that matter. But Grand didn't laugh. "I thought you needed some company," he said cheerfully. "And cleanliness is a virtue, don't you think?"

I stepped backwards to let Grant squeeze himself inside. The stall could barely hold both of us, and I found myself almost pressed against him. I lowered my arms and bared my breasts again. My nipples -- already hard nubs -- brushed against Grant's chest. He approvingly pinched the right one, coaxing a sharp inhale from my lips. "Someone's ready to cut glass," he said.

"You're pinching them all the time," I complained. "What do you expect?"

"You're enjoying it, so I'm doing it."

I couldn't argue with that. Shifting half a step forward, I was practically standing in his arms. My breasts squeezed against his strong chest as I gripped him around his waist. His hands, meanwhile, were slowly running down my shoulders, arms, back. I had made out with boyfriends in the shower before. But never had I been as excited as I was now. I leaned in closer and kissed him eagerly. He opened his mouth for my tongue, all while his hands forcefully squeezed their way across my lower back and ass. I could feel his by now familiar hardness pressing up against my belly, growing bigger by the second. I slipped my palm across his shaft, gingerly washing it in the streaming water. My touch brought him to full erection within seconds. His cock stood in stiff attention between our bodies and the engorged cockhead seemed to be looking straight up at me.

"What do you say about giving it a kiss?" Grant asked.

I raised my eyebrow at him, although it didn't stop me from stroking him. "Haven't you had enough?"

"Of your mouth? Not nearly. You've got the lips of a cock-sucking angel."

"Oh god," I resignedly sighed, throwing my head back. "Compliment after compliment. I don't think I've ever heard so many compliments in one day in my entire life."

"You're telling me that none of the men you've been with have been giving you compliments?"

"Of course they have. Just, maybe they weren't just as colourful."

"Shame," Grant shook his head. "Any man who's been with you and who doesn't constantly appreciate you is an idiot."

"Now I know you're flattering me."

"You're damn fine, Irina. You better believe it and remember it. And you do have the lips of a cock-sucking angel."

"I'll certainly remember that," I laughed, getting on my knees. I didn't waste much time taking him into my mouth. That first nervous barrier had been passed long ago. I kissed his tip and then spent several long moments lustfully licking him, running my tongue from root to tip and back again. Working my way around him, tending to every angle. Grant grabbed his shaft by the root and slapped me across the face. Then, after what seemed to be a second of consideration, he presented me his sack. Just lifted it in front of my face, letting the heavy skin purse smack against my forehead. "Open your pretty mouth, Irina."

I opened my mouth wide, stretching out my tongue as if I was at the doctor's. Grant lowered his package straight towards it, placing one of them directly in my mouth. If his cock was big, his testicles were certainly no joke either. The size of small apples, they moved heavily inside his sack. I wrapped my mouth around one of them, pursuing my lips as I sucked on it. Water was streaming down above his cock and my face, getting in my eyes and mouth, but I didn't care about the discomfort. I was too far gone to care. Grant noticed it to, "You're a diligent girl, Irina."