Page 38 of A Gold Medal in Love
Blake nods, and then I feel a hand softly brush my thigh.
I bite my lip to stop my whimper, and I watch Blake’s eyes zero in on the movement briefly, before flicking back up to my eyes with blown-out pupils.
Their hand slowly inches toward my pussy, unimpeded by any cloth barrier. The steady movement has me breathingheavily, on tenterhooks for the moment when Blake will enter me. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, and these minutes seem to be stretched out like taffy, time slowing while Blake caresses my skin with their hockey-calloused hands.
Blessedly (oh, that’s fucked of me to use that word under this roof), I feel not one, but two fingers enter me at the same time. I feel like I’ve been edged my entire fucking life at this point, but the surprise of it makes me clamp my legs closed, trapping Blake’s fingers.
“Do you honestly think that you’re going to get away with locking up on me while I violate you in such a holy place?” Blake taunts me, the pads of their fingers still managing to massage my inner walls despite my physical refusal.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” I whisper, opening my legs again. My eyes keep on Blake’s, and the strain of the scene makes them begin to water.
“I can feel how wet you are, Cupcake.” Blake’s fingers find the crook of my G-spot and slowly press in, making my body react with a chill. “One must ask: is it your Dom that makes you fall apart, or is it the fact that you’re so fucking wrong for wanting this?”
The pressure on that spot, ugh, the sweetest of spots, has robbed me of words. I’m keeping quiet, but if anyone looked over, they would be instantly suspicious. I can feel the anguish in my face, mouth ajar for the scream that I won’t let come out, brows smashed together with the eyes I feel begging underneath them, moisture forming in my eyes. The anticipation that Blake has built for a week has finally boiled over: they’re inside of me, the connection feels so Goddamn good, and meanwhile… a crowd of acolytes mill around the edges of my periphery, intent on their own tears and prayer.
Butthis?Blake might have unwittingly introduced me to my own religion––kink. And this is only my first day praying at the altar.
I close my eyes as Blake uses the collected moisture from my pussy and runs their fingers up to my clit, rubbing the wetness back into my body via intense pressure.
“Sir… Blake… please…” Are the only words that I can manage.
“I know, Cupcake, I know. Does it hurt so good?” They whisper back, moving their fingers down to my pussy, inserting three fingers this time. I barely repress a squeak before their palm makes its way to my clit, grinding there as they fill me.
“Shitshitshit, Sir. I’m… ugh… so full…” I breathe out, dying to scream my pleasure aloud.
“Do you know how good your cunt feels, Cupcake? Was the wait worth it for you? It was worth it for me,” Blake grinds out while their fingers and hand press into me in the most delicious of ways.
“Kiss, pleasepleaseplease?” I beg, because that’s right, I’m not above begging at this point.
“Oh, you’re being so good for me right now, so it’s not a question of you being undeserving. But we have to wait,” Blake soothes me, their pads of their fingers pressing back into my most sensitive wall.
I cannot refute that, so I just stare into their hungry eyes as I fall into pleasure. Blake looks like they would eat me alive if they could, and I’m not at all certain that this isn’t already the midpoint of them taking every single piece of me for their own. Furthermore, I’m not sure that that would be counterintuitive to my own desires. I have them right now, and it’s not enough. I want more, so much more. Maybe that’s just my need to come talking.
“If only Sister Ruth could see me now,” They smirk, reminding me of our circumstances. “I’ve never been so spiritually inspired.”
The reality check is too much, tears beginning a slow descent from the eyes that can’t move away from my Dominant’s. Our breaths are syncopated now, both of us barely containing ourselves in the effort to stay as silent as possible while we defile each other in this church. Blake may be the one fucking me, but this is mutual destruction, and the carnage we are creating together is nothing short of a miracle. We are desperate for each other, and it shows in the way we fuck. Their fingers move in me like they’ve memorized the map of my body, and I respond to Blake like they’re a lover who has done the steps a thousand times.
My tears come faster now, as small choked sounds emanate from my throat, unable to hold myself back as Blake amps up their movements, the fingers in the shelf of my G-spot pressing down with unbelievable strength, and their palm feels like it’s reached beyond my clit.
“Oh, God, Cupcake, that’s right, come for your Sir,” Blake growls as I flutter around their hand.
And that’s enough. I fly apart. Some of me lands on the crucifix at the front of the pulpit. The unaware worshippers definitely end up with wayward portions of my soul flung onto their clothing. And unfortunately, I scream loud enough to resurrect Christ himself as I come more deeply than I’ve ever come before, sagging into Blake’s arms as I unburden myself of everything I’ve been carrying lately, entrusting it bodily to my Dom, giving it to them and letting them take care of me.
Blake’s fingers take me through it the rest of the way, fucking me through the long orgasm. Our sneakiness lost to my vocalization; they bring my face up to theirs with their other hand, finally granting me the kiss I had so beautifully beggedfor. Their lips and tongue are ravenous on mine, devouring the rest of my sounds and my composure as they swallow everything I have to offer. “Oh, Cupcake, you were so good for me,” they praise, before they lick the remaining tears on my cheeks, getting a mouthful of mascara in the process, I’m sure. “Now, we have to beat feet. Let’s fuckin’ go.” Their fingers slip out and away from me, and I watch them stand, wipe my cum all over the pocket panties, and hold out their clean hand to me.
Noticing the whispers of the petitioners as we leave, Blake slips their hand in mine. “Don’t pay attention to them. Pay attention to me.”
And as we leave, I watch, horrified and also deeply fucking undone, as Blake dips their cummy fingers into the holy water font at the entrance, and makes the sign of the cross as we leave, the security guard glaring at us as we remove ourselves from the building we just sinned in.
Stopping behind Blake, I decide to be bold, and, making eye contact with the guard, I dip my finger into the water and slip the finger into my mouth, following it with the sign as well. Then we run away, laughing.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
BLAKE
Olympics Day10