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I started thrusting again, my hands grasping the straps for support. Her cries rose up once again. I enjoyed the sight of her breasts bouncing crazily as I fucked her hard. Ivy arched her back in the swing and squirmed about, cumming hard as I shot another load into her pussy.
I leaned heavily on the straps as my now flaccid cock slipped out of her. Gently, I took her out of the swing and carried her to the bed.
I laid her on her back and then got in the bed beside her. I cradled her head in the crook of my arm and just petted her lustrous black mane while she recovered.
“Oh god,” she sighed. “I think I’m finally done. I’ve never come so much in my entire life.”
“Me neither,” I said. “I’m surprised my balls haven’t shriveled to the size of raisins.”
She gave me an exhausted, scoffing laugh.
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
I pulled her in tightly against me and kissed the top of her head.
“I love you, Ivy.”
“I love you, too.” She rolled over onto her side, laying on my stomach and chest. Ivy fixed me with a frank gaze, her brows arching in query.
“What?” I prompted when she just kept staring at me.
“Did you ever think it was going to work out like this?”
I gave her a long, somber look.
“I think, maybe, on the inside, I always knew it would work out like this.”
“And yet you went through with the fake relationship anyway.”
I shrugged. “I guess I did.”
She smiled sweetly, and then kissed me tenderly. At least, it started out tender. I soon found she wasn’t nearly as exhausted as I’d thought.
Not that I’m complaining.
Epilogue Three
Ivy
The Cyclone trundled past, rattling the wooden rafters arcing like gridwork hills above us. A susurrus of the metal wheels on steel tracks mingled with the awed, happy cries of those riding it.
The four-year-old girl walking between Stan and I, holding onto both of our hands, looked up at me with query dancing in her green eyes.
“Mommy, I wanna go on the Cyclone.”
“You’re not big enough yet,” I said.
“But I want to.”
Stan got that look in his eye. I caught his glance and shook my head.
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Think about what?”
“Mom,’ Lindsey said “I wanna go on the horsies. Am I big enough for that?”
“Yes, sweetie,” I said, moving toward the line for the carousel. “Yes, you’re big enough for the horsies.”