In Slavery

I guess this was as close as I could get to love at that moment in my life: asking if Molly truly enjoyed being the slave she had begged to be.

With an almost imperceptible nod she lowered her eyes to my erection again.

"I did." She said softly, paused before she continued. "Do I disgust you?" She asked quietly still speaking at my stiff flesh.

I chuckled at her question, a stabbing weakness filling my chest. No matter how hard I tried I knew this beautiful crazy woman was better suited to handle the adult world than I was: than I might ever be. She was more grounded, and at least she knew what she wanted. The needs that drove her to this wont would remain a mystery for now but her desire to share that wont with me sated me somehow.

Like a thirsty man, stumbling in from the desert, her love and devotion could quench my parched soul. The anger I harbored at the injustices of the real world melted before her persistent touch. Her attentions might save me: and if not, nothing would. I'd be lost forever.

She wanted to serve me.

All I knew was I wanted her more than anything I had or ever would have. She was truly a gift from the gods: someone who puts your happiness ahead of their own. Someone who derived their happiness from your's alone.

"How could I be disgusted by the most beautiful... sexy... wonderful slave in the entire world?" I asked with my voice barely above a whisper. A tear broke free from her eye and skidded down her cheek.

"Come 'ere," I beckoned. She crawled into my lap facing me. My flesh broke the sticky resistance of her sex and I thrust myself to the deepest part of her body. A shiver greeted me when she felt my hardness touch her womb.

She bawled openly while she rode me to our mutual orgasm.