The Final Arrangement

But he has other plans. He kneels astride me, placing tender kisses as he travels lower. Ripples of delight wash through me with each blissful contact. He arrives between my thighs, inhales my scent deeply and whispers, “So delicious!” I feel hot breath over my swelling lips, my legs open, his tongue lashes forward exploring wet folds, flicks my clitoris and...

An explosion of sensation! Such sweet, sweet rapture!

Shaking arms move to grab his head and hold him into me, writhing and convulsing in blessed release! Fingers slip inside and curl upwards and...

Swooping free fall! Bliss! My whole being, incandescent...

He pulls away. Eyes fired with lust connect with mine. Slowly he begins to move forward again, each delicate kiss carefully placed along his journey leaving a trail of hot, tingling lip prints on hypersensitive skin. I narrate my pleasure with muted gasps and soft moans.

Visiting each breast in turn, his lashing tongue rakes around each areola before lips draw the nipple gently and deeply into his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue. The delicious, torturous treatment drives a sparkling thrill throughout my soul: deep inside I spasm and clench, and juices flush. My whole body feels as if it's crackling with electricity.

He reaches my neck, nuzzles that sweet spot and... I melt! Gasping, mouth open, his lips and tongue draw out my muffled moans. His face is slick and wet. I'm tasting... me. Scent and flavour unleash primal urges.

He's breathing heavily as he lays over me, shifting position, nudging my sex. My thighs move wider, inviting him. He barely moves yet parts my folds and slides slowly, carefully, considerately inside. His flesh feels deliciously hot, firm, ridged and veined; a cascading eruption as he presses past my G spot and onward, deeper, ever deeper, so filling... so stretched... And he pauses.

Mind reeling, my whole body sings! The travel of him, thick and swollen. The delicious friction. Peals of hot lightning within. Gushing... Vague awareness of screaming...

It's been so long, so long...

He wraps me in his arms and rolls, my lower body pulled by his firmly embedded flesh hook, until I'm laying over him. My sex ripples and grips his steel-hard length, my whole body is trembling and shaking with echoes and aftershocks. With incredible understanding he just holds me, fingertips tenderly exploring and swirling over my shoulders and back. He waits patiently while my breathing gradually slows, ripples dissipate, heat cools to a warm, comfortable, lustful glow.

"Oh John! Oh..." I suddenly catch myself, embarrassed. Mind tricks. "I'm sorry..."

He chuckles, "Don't worry. I'm flattered."

He begins an undulating movement, hips flexing to draw his length out and press slowly back in as I lay over him. It's an exquisite sensation with my fiery, distended bud dragging through his soft pubic curls. But I'm compelled to control our fate: bringing my knees forward and lifting myself up, I slowly lower my hips again. I study the nuances of his features; his eyes narrow, and his delight grows as I wrap his shaft into my honeyed sex, pressing down to take my fill. I have him deep, massaging my smooth inner walls, squeezing him.

I cry out loud, slithering with liquid hips. And as I arch my spine backwards to drive that gorgeous firm flesh across my G spot, he reaches up to cup and caress my swaying breasts. Lust drives me to ride harder and I hear him groan in pleasure, feel him beginning to swell inside. His fingers playfully tease areolae before pinching and pulling on my nipples, lifting and suspending my breasts from them as I move beneath. Stinging, red hot fireworks of delicious pleasure pulse through my body with each movement. I hear myself growl, falling forward onto my arms; grasping handfuls of duvet, knuckles whitening, and...

The bestial predator bursts from deep cover, sprinting for the kill: grinding myself onto him, driving his meat hard, fast and deep into my hungry cunt. His eyes widen in shock, then melt into a sizzling smile as he grabs my hips. I rise to provide the latitude he needs. He's thrusting to meet each downward plunge. Yelps and grunts of rutting animals fill the room. Each time I lift there's a desperate craving to force him back deep inside to fill the emptiness. The impact of our collisions cannon and resound through my body. I lean forward and plunder his mouth as we push and pull to devour each other. We need to breathe, and our lips are wet as we snort for air. His scent spices the excitement and I kiss him as a succubus might drain his soul. He releases my hips and returns his hands to my swaying, suspended breasts. Once again I feel the exquisite torture of nipples gripped vice-like, pulled and stretched taut. This accelerant fuels an explosive flash-over fire: I plunge to take him all, writhing wildly, succumbing to the demon within. Ploughing my drenched cunt, his heavier thrusts assault me, the rampant hound forcing the air from me. I cannot get enough as his bitch in heat.

These cravings betray my body as this act betrays my marriage.

His rhythm buckles, breath ragged. Groaning, this is the finality of the moment. I feel him press deep and hold, his swell, his hot torrent erupting into my unfaithful cunt. Sturdy shoves fulfil my cravings, and I take it deep, inundated and pulsing and...

I'm undone: collapsing, my whole body wracked with intense, fiery, waves of ecstacy! Gulping air, I pitch and roll through the surging, sweet suffering of complete release.

There's a deep ache inside as ravaged, inflamed, and weary muscles twitch and shiver around his softening flesh. The animus slowly slinks away leaving an euphoric, incandescent afterglow. My wild, damp hair is stuck to our sweat-slicked faces. Warm gratification soothes me. The air reeks of sexual musk. Breathing gradually slows as we lay together, quietly.

I roll off him onto the duvet. A satisfying warm trickle leaks guiltily from my sex: my integrity defiled, my cravings sated, my soul a little less empty.

He rolls to my side of the bed, pulling the rest of the duvet around us.

We sleep.

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He is first to wake.

He watches her, admiring her graceful, delicate features, her tousled hair, content that she's untroubled and relaxed. She breathes deeply, slowly with a hushed sound. This contrasts harshly with the surge of turbulent emotions overwhelming his mind.

It takes immense strength to wrestle them under control, to hold it together. The afternoon with her was an incredible, wonderful fulfilment. So precious. And yet, reflecting now, it resurfaces the visceral, raw agony of losing Jenny, his love, the soulmate anchoring his life. And now he feels frightened, facing the loss of another so soon.

His phone buzzes. He snatches it from the desk and answers quickly so as not to wake her.

John is openly weeping. Between sobs, he gasps, "Thank you."

"John, I feel awful! I..." He's stopped by a surge of intense guilt, an overwhelming sense of betrayal that leaves him feeling a hollow shell.

John interrupts, gasping out words with barely controlled emotion, "You've just been 'you', exactly as I'd hoped. I watched the video call you started. Your respect. Your care. Your tenderness. Your love. And she responded to you so naturally, so freely. You're incredible!"

The air is filled with suffocating grief. He breaks down and they weep quietly together, separated by miles, unable to hug.

Struggling to regain composure, John continues, "Now I know she'll be safe. I know that you'll take care of each other, after..." His voice trails away. "Love you, bro."

"Love you too, " he chokes through an aching throat, tears streaming.

John hangs up.

And he's suddenly feeling so cold, so alone, so empty, so helpless in the face of the genetic lottery that has determined his brother's cruel fate.

The bed sways. Soft arms wrap around him and pull him gently into a warm body's embrace. "Oh, come here," she whispers. "I'm so sorry about Jenny! I feel awful for..." She stops and cradles him as he sobs inconsolably; this strong, loving man ripped apart by loss.

She lets go, too, weeping with him, picturing the hospice bedside where they will face and endure this pain again soon.

But not alone.

Together.

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