The Gambler

Throughout it all, he guardedly watched, never relinquishing control of himself or of me and I sensed his wonderment at the woman struggling under him, as he searched her eyes to see whether she was all she appeared. Like a cat stalking its quarry, he never took his eyes from mine until, with a scream, I climaxed for him, wrapping my legs around his back and holding him as deeply as my body would allow. Then his eyes closed and with barely a whimper his hot semen filled me, determined, I thought, to flood my depths, claiming me more completely than I had allowed any man.

Despite having finished, his cock remained enormous in me, pinning my tiny frame under his weight. The sweat pouring from our exhausted bodies bonded us as one, our chests still heaving despite excitement's fading.

He charmingly stayed in me, resting himself on strong arms, looking down at the worn out woman of the moment. When he finally began to withdraw and fearing his cum might slip away, I closed my legs and complained tenderly, whispering, "Don't go. Not yet."

Ceasing his movement, he rested his head on the pillow next to mine and taking my hair in his hand, he kissed me, his lips lingering against my own and I breathed his air into my wanting lungs.

It was finished. I had done it; I had taken his sperm for my own. I had opened myself, knowing once done, nothing would ever be the same. Would anything be better? Would the gamble a woman takes when she exposes herself to intimacy's unknowns lead me to a special place? I hadn't a clue.

VIII

The hours before the sun rose were maddingly short as I lay silently but fully awake next to him, watching as he slept peacefully. Refusing to stir for fear of disturbing his slumber, I gave thought to how this one night's sleep might yet become a lasting hibernation with me.

I knew this sex, this strange and exciting man, was different for me; unlike anything I had felt before. What I needed to know now was, when he awakened, would he feel the same?

End