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He thrusts into me, and I melt around him. I’ll never get over this, over us. He’s my first, last, always.
“I love you,” I whimper.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,”he mutters in my ear before letting loose an entire obscene soliloquy in Russian as he drills me into the reinforced window.
I hope the whole world can see him splitting me in half with his fat cock. I hope the whole world sees how wet I am for him.
“I’m going to put a baby in you,” he says on a particularly hard thrust. “I’m going to fill you with my baby.”
I giggle, loving when he’s like this. I grab him by the cheeks, kiss him hard, consuming him as he consumes me, until he pulls away to lift my legs, curling my body to change the angle so I can feel his piercings scrape better.
We’re back up to five, a new one every year, but it’s January; our anniversary is in a month, and then it’ll be another six weeks of torturing him with the gentlest hand jobs ever while he heals from the sixth.
Last year, in a moment of absolute weakness, he talked me into pegging him. I’m secretly hoping to dust off the strap-on again in February.
“More babies,” he groans. “You’re going to give me more babies.”
He’s going to come soon, I can feel it and I can hear it in his voice, but I’m going to come first. Still, I manage to say, “Haven’t I given you enough babies?”
Givemight not be the right word, but Artom has a little sister and a baby brother now.
“I want another,” Vasily insists, and I swear he’s saying this now like he’s concerned I’d say no in a more suitable moment.
Thanks to a successful egg retrieval, we have four more viable embryos we just need surrogates for. I don’t know that we’ll go through with all of them, but one more?
He plows into me, and I scream, “Yes, yes, oh my God, yes!”
That’s all he needs. He leans into me and groans as he empties himself inside me and my pussy squeezes around him. Together,we slide down to the floor, where we’ve replaced the utilitarian carpet with a far plusher shag for these moments. “We’re going to have a baby,” Vasily whispers, so sex-drunk and vodka-drunk that he giggles.
“You’re baby crazy.”
“Mmm.” He grunts, rolls me over, and nudges his cock at my entrance.
He’s already hard again.
“Now, I teach you to count, zvyozdochka.But only to five.”
Intrigued by Consummate?
Please be, because the whole fucking reason I wrote the Baranov Duet is because of a random single line inUnyielding,which I’ve delayed the release of for an entire year because I wanted that random single line to have context.
For anyone who needs this clarification: this is insane. What I did is insane.