Mike & Karen Ch. 25

And none more so than his wife, who counted herself the most blessed woman in the world.

She'd reached a point that if she kept sucking his cock, the only purpose was to make him cum in her mouth, and Karen, frankly, had other plans. Reluctantly, she released her mouth's vacuum grip of his member and slowly stood, now displaying her warm and sex-flushed body to him. Her golden-amber eyes were glazed, almost molten with desire as she held his gaze. Her large breasts begged for his powerful hands, her body absolutely on fire. And he'd barely touched her yet.

Karen shivered and bit her lip as he reached down and took her by the hips turning her around to face away from him. She closed her eyes, revelling in the sensation of his fingers gently pulling down her panties, over her hips and down her long legs. She stepped out of them, now completely naked except for the sheer black stockings and the heels she still wore. She waited, trying not to tremble in anticipation of what he would do with her next. Her own thunderous heartbeat was almost all she could hear, and the breathing she could barely control.

His huge hands took her by the shoulders and turned her around. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, towering over her. She tried not to gasp and whimper at the sight, because he was now fully naked, even down to his shoes and socks having been shucked aside without her noticing. She drank in the sight of his massive, powerful chest, the broad shoulders that almost seemed to touch opposite walls, the sculpted abdomen framed by a strong but narrow waist under that expansive torso.

His erection, that massive, throbbing tool that stood in front of him, almost touched her stomach.

"Michael..." she said in a voice barely more than a whisper as his laser-blue eyes held hers.

Karen gasped as her husband picked her up and turned around, her body helpless before his frightful power. The shivering thrill of how he could simply toss her around had never ceased to delight her. She found herself deposited on the chair he had just stood up from, but she was not sitting. Her hands were braced on the seat cushion as she faced the back of the chair, and her body was being held in the air. His muscular arms moved her so that her spine arced slowly upward and her legs were pressed against his immense chest. She groaned and whimpered as he pulled her legs wider, her already soaking pussy just below his face. Karen sighed loudly as he pushed his tongue against her smooth womanhood, massaging it expertly and without mercy. She pursed her lips, willing herself not to keen and alert the entire floor to their activities.

Karen held herself up on one hand, trembling as she stuck a knuckle into her mouth, biting on it to keep from wailing as her husband's tongue invaded her. After more than thirty years, Michael knew her body better than she did, and it responded to his with a slavish eagerness. He knew every bit of her, and how to bring her to heights of ecstasy that she never tired of. She was already gasping, her body on fire as he gave her the first of what she knew would be several orgasms. Michael never failed to give her fewer than three before he allowed himself to climax with her.

She found herself flipped over onto her upper back, her lower body still in the air while his tongue ravaged her pussy, his fingers gripping her thighs to hold her in place. She panted and gasped, fondling and massaging her breasts, teasing her nipples while he worked his magic on her. Jolts of pleasure lanced along her nervous system from her core, his relentless assault on her clouding her mind and driving all coherent thought from her.

And then she groaned loudly as he braced her down, her legs still split wide as he sank his enormous cock down into her. If anyone heard her, she was literally beyond being able to care. Mike buried himself slowly to the hilt and then left himself there for several seconds, listening to Karen almost wheeze as she tried to manage her breath. He wasn't leaning down on her, but the position had her pinned in place against the chair, and she was at his mercy.

Her hips and lower back sank into the cushion and then rose up as he began pushing up and down inside her, a slow pistoning action with his hips as he loomed over her. Karen's hands gripped and almost tore the upholstery before returning to her breasts, kneading and squeezing them frantically. Her panting had become gasping, and it felt like with each deep stroke, he was forcing the air from her lungs. His huge tools stretched her wide, especially at this deep angle where she was virtually immobile, helpless before the power of his body.

And she loved every second of it.

Karen shuddered and clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her wail of pleasure, waves of rapture crashing through her, battering her senses and setting her mind adrift. Another orgasm followed that one quickly, her breath catching in her throat. Mike thumped down hard inside her, feeling like he was going to split her in half. Her limbs were all tingling, she couldn't feel them more than that. Fire coursed though her, all the way to her throat.

She had at least two more, but frankly, she'd lost count. He was ravaging her tonight, and she knew she'd be thankful for it once she'd come down. Serotonin, dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin flooded her system, and what remained of her willpower was focused solely on not screeching so loud that the neighbourhood heard her. He knew she'd been nervous about Jenny, so he was putting her nerves in a coma. Such a considerate man...

She heard his breath getting heavier and her eyes flicked up. His intense, laser-blue eyes were flashing down at her, and he was almost snorting like a bull. She could feel his cock pulsing and swelling inside her clenching pussy and she knew what was coming. He thumped down into her, her body juddering beneath him. His hands gripped her tighter. She kept her eyes locked with his, wanting to have that completely exposed, raw, and honest moment with her husband, the one where he could see everything about her, and she could see him. It was the purest expression of their love, and she needed it always.

And then she heard the growl, that deep, rumbling sound in his throat as he made the final push. A sound she loved him for as he took her and made her his own yet again.

She felt it, his molten cum pumping deep inside her, filling her. The most powerful orgasm yet of the night crashed into her like a freight train. She could not tell if she was silent, or screaming at the top of her lungs. Her body was just a conduit for unrestrained pleasure, every fiber and atom of her being surrendering to a bliss she could never describe.

She felt herself getting picked up by his powerful arms, but held gently. They embraced her firmly as she almost drunkenly rested her head on his shoulder, no doubt still panting, her chest heaving as her massive breasts squashed to her chest. Mike sat down in the chair and she straddled him, still impaled on his erect cock, which throbbed inside her. She knew she wouldn't be leaking, as long as he stayed hard, which he would for a while yet. She could count on that.

Karen trembled as little aftershocks coursed through her, keeping her whole body tingling deliciously. This was where she belonged; this was her purpose and her destiny, to love and make love to this peerless man, and to be his equal and his everything.

It was a stupid woman who didn't envy Karen Gordon-DeBourne, she figured, as she always had.

"Thank you," she whispered against his skin, kissing it. "Nobody could ever be better to someone than you are to me, Michael."

"There's no need to thank me for doing what I'm meant to do," he whispered back to her, still holding her tight. He would never understand what he'd done to deserve this incredible woman. Beautiful, regal, and gifted beyond measure, she completed him in ways no one else ever could hope to. And some had indeed tried. No, this was where he belonged. "Acts of devotion need no thanks or praise."

Karen knew he meant it. There was nothing Michael would rather do than worship her body with his. And she understood how he felt, because it was her fulfillment too. Life without Michael wasn't... life. She had no other way to be now.

They sat in the eternal embrace, lost in one another, a world all their own.

They needed nothing else.

***

St. James Cathedral, Sunday morning, the present...

Mike and Karen were sitting off in chairs on the side of the long nave, separate from the pews, since they were elders of the church. While Mike would have preferred to sit with the congregation, per the teachings found in Matthew, he was so big that everyone saw the wisdom in letting him sit in what was normally considered a distinguished place of honour from a different era. Reluctantly, he acquiesced, and Karen joined him. They watched as the children were sitting in a large blob at the foot of the apse, in front of the altar. Sitting on the stairs of the altar, Alex and Alexa were playing guitars and singing a fun song while the children clapped and tried to sing along. Even the less serious members of the congregation were getting involved.

"All God's creatures got a place in the choir,

Some sing low, some sing higher,

Some sing out loud on a telephone wire,

Some just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they got now!"

"Listen to the top where the little bird sings," Alexa chimed, smiling at all the lovely faces who clapped while she tapped her foot and strummed on her acoustic guitar. It was one of Mike's, but she loved how this one sounded.

"On the melodies and the high notes ringing,

And the hoot owl cries over everything,

And the blackbird disagrees!"

"All God's creatures got a place in the choir," the two choused together while the children giddily joined them.

"Some sing low, some sing higher,

Some sing out loud on a telephone wire,

Some just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they got now!"

"It's so wonderful to listen to them sing and play together, isn't it?" Karen whispered to her husband as she watched her son and her little sister entertain the children before they went to Sunday school.

"The world would be a poorer place without that dynamic and that love," Mike agreed, nodding. "I'm glad we recognized it for what it is."

Karen was pensive for a moment during the chorus. "Should I take up the guitar, husband-mine? Hardly seems fair that you, Alex, and Alli are the ones who can play it while I languish in a corner."

Mike smiled. He loved it when his wife was silly. "Like we don't get enough Partridge Family comparisons, but yes, Kar, nothing would make me happier than to have you playing guitar with me. You'll pick it up in no time flat, and my life will be somehow more complete."

The bronze-haired goddess sighed in satisfaction and nodded, continuing to watch the younger pair play. Alex had taken over the next verse.

"Listen to the bass, it's the one at the bottom,

Where the bullfrog croaks and the hippopotamus

Moans and groans with a big t'do,

And the old brown cow goes moo!"

The pair sang the last verse together.

"It's a simple song, a little song ev'rywhere,

By the ox, and the fox, and the grizzly bear,

They dopey alligator, and the hawk above,

The sly old weasel and the turtledove!"

By now, just about the entire congregation was clapping along with the final chorus, the tall ceiling echoing with the sound. Karen let out a sighing laugh as she clapped gaily.

"All God's creatures got a place in the choir,

Some sing low, some sing higher,

Some sing out loud on a telephone wire,

Some just clap their hands, or paws, or anything they got now!"

It wasn't often that the congregation applauded loudly when the children's songs ended, but this was one of those times. The enthusiasm of the children was infectious and several of them hugged Alex and Alexa as they put aside their guitars. With the permission of the bishop, the pair led the children over to their Sunday school teachers and escorted them downstairs to their classrooms.

"And now," the bishop announced, speaking from his pulpit, "today's lesson, on the perils of the unwelcoming closed mind..."

***

Blackwell Manor, later that day...

"You guys ready for this?" Alex asked as he led them down the hall on the main floor of the manor. His friends and bandmates seemed both eager and unsure of what he was up to.

"You're not finding a room to show us your dick in, are you, fag?" teased Ted. Dick and fag jokes seemed to be his go-to, although Alex knew he didn't mean it. Ted actually got along well with Alex's uncle Josh, who was decidedly gay. This was just clowning, as they always had.

"I've shown my wife my dick in every room in this house," Alex replied, smirking as they walked. "Done more than that, actually."

"Ah, shut your cock-trap, DeBourne," Ted grumbled, while Dave and Anthony laughed and swatted their friend for getting owned. "If I had a girl that was built like Dana Hamm, I'd boff her in every room of this palace too, y'know."

They stopped in front of a room, and it was one they'd already been to, the RPG and gaming room. The entrance was concealed by a tarp that Alex now pulled away, revealing the door.

The door was different this time around. It was still made of dark wood, but it looked like an old medieval arched door, with a wrought-iron push-handle. More than that, the wood seemed to be inlaid with some sort of etching, faint and hard to see.

"Go on," Alex said, nodding to the door.

Anthony reached for the handle and depressed it with his thumb before pushing. The door didn't budge. He frowned and pressed down again, pulling this time, to no effect. They were still outside.

"Your door's jammed, man," Anthony said, giving his friend a wry look. "Can you possibly afford a new, working one?"

Alex smirked. "Speak, friend, and enter."

Anthony made a face, not sure what Alex was on about. He looked at the door. "Open... Open, Sesame... open in the name of titties... DeBourne is a cockmongler for making me do this..."

While Alex and Ted were chuckling and ribbing Anthony, Dave moved closer and spoke to the door in a clear voice. "Mellon."

Not only did the lock click, but the LED inlay in the door glowed with a silvery light, displaying symbols familiar to any nerd on the planet.

"Oh, fuck off!" Dave laughed as he pushed on the handle now and opened the door inward. "For real? Now we have to pretend we like you to come and play here?"

"What's harder to believe?" Alex countered, grinning as his friends headed into the room. "Me having a door that looks like the gates of Moria, or you losers actually having a friend?"

"I'm just amazed the door didn't open on its own after Dave said anything," Ted muttered, looking around the room. Other than the door, it was basically the same as last time. Which was fucking amazing.

"Hey, dad and I put it together pretty quickly, with some help from Freja," Alex said, shrugging. "Making an old, wooden door voice-activated is harder than you think. And inlaying the LED lights to respond to voice as well was a bitch. Lots of chips involved."

They were rummaging around the room, checking out all the cool features and making plans for their game, when Karen happened to walk by in the hall and paused, seeing that her son was inside it with her friends. The matriarch had changed out of her church clothes and was now dressed in an elegant pearl-hued blouse, and a form-fitting black skirt that tapered above her knees. Her long legs were encased in sheer black nylons, and her feet in black heels. Her bob was worn slightly to the left today, which Alex associated with his mother's cheerful, playful side. She made to enter, but then stopped at the door, examining it, and passing a graceful hand over the surface. She gave her son a look.

"Alex, this had better not be one of my antique doors from the basement," she said, her voice carrying a hint of warning. "The youngest of those doors is almost three hundred years old, child."

"I promise, mom," Alex chuckled, turning to speak to her as she came into the room. His friends all did as well, standing up straight and trying to look less slovenly. It wasn't hard to feel that way in Karen DeBourne's presence. "Dad and I ethically sourced it and just aged the Hell out of the wood."

"It's really awesome that you let us do this, ma'am," Ted said, nodding respectfully. It was a poorly kept secret that he'd had a massive crush on Karen when he was growing up. "My parents think I shouldn't be doing 'kid stuff' like D&D anyway. I appreciate it."

"Oh, you're sweet," Karen cooed, cupping Ted's cheek, giving it a single, gentle caress. Ted went both pale and red all at once. "If you ever need someone to straighten them out, darling, you let me know."

She turned away to walk over the full bar, which was just as well since Ted's eyes rolled up into his skull, and Dave steadied his friend in case Ted fainted from blood loss to his brain. Alex did his level best not to snicker. Karen trailed her fingers over several small kegs, some of which seemed to have been tapped. "The mead you and your father made, Alex?"

"Yep, and they're all ready."

Karen considered, looking at the set-up of the fantasy-themed, solid-wood bar. "Do you have a sack or a bochet in this collection?" she queried.

"The keg you have your hand on is a sack, flavoured with elderberry, and the one at the back is a bochet, with really strong smoked caramel notes."

"May I try the sack?" asked his mother, reaching for and picking up a rather large and authentic-looking drinking horn.

"You drink mead, ma'am?" Anthony asked, somewhat agog.

"Of course," she replied, putting the horn under the spigot of the keg and beginning to pour. "My family's wineries make a few, but I find Michael and Alex do a much better job, in fact."

She looked at Alex's friends, and they were all still staring at her. "Well, you're not going to make a lady drink by herself, are you? Get over here and help me out, gentlemen."

Ted, Dave, and Anthony all seemed to blink for a moment before coming out of their stupor from being in their queen's presence and hurried over to join her, getting drinking horns for themselves. Alex chuckled to himself, shaking his head while he took his favourite horn. In his eyes, his mother was just his mother, but maybe he couldn't blame these guys. After all, his dad still got goofy around mom, didn't he? It seemed to have evaded her that at least two of them, himself included, were technically still too young to drink. But knowing his mother, she probably didn't care, either.

"Almien, mellynwa," Karen said in flawless Quenya before tipping her horn and beginning to drink. The three boys just looked at her in stunned silence for a moment before starting to drink and trying to catch up with her. Alex just smiled and rolled his eyes before drinking. Nerds...

He politely let his mother finish her horn first, which she legitimately did before Dave, Anthony, or Ted. She lowered her horn, closed her eyes, and sighed, before looking at him. "Alex, what was the percentage on that mead?"

Alex finished his horn. "Well, we checked the specific gravity right before we kegged 'em, and it was floatin' at nineteen percent. Might round out about twenty."

"Definitely a sack mead, then," she concluded, looking down into her horn. "And the elderberry masks much of the alcohol. Very dangerous. Who are you trying to get liquored up, young man?"