Page 10 of Gaming with the Gargoyle in Hallow's Cove

Now though, I’m even more jealous of that damn mug than I ever have been, because it touches her every day. She’s drinking me down now, each sip of her kiss extracting little bits of my soul. She opens her mouth and I flow inside, my tongue melting into her as if it’s where it’s meant to be. I’ve only held it in my mouth for my entire life and now it’s coming home.

Gwen reaches up around my neck and I move, instinctually wrapping my arms under her delectably thick ass and hoisting her up. The way her body molds and presses into me like we were made to fit lights me aflame.

“Uhn.”

And there it is, the first sound she makes for me and the muffled moan only makes me ravenous for more. I know her body so well, and yet this is what I am desperate to know. What touches will make her sing for me? What sighs or screams can I extract with my lips and hands?

She circles her hips and my mind blanks. Her core is right over my cock and that one little grind almost makes my knees buckle. I tear myself from her and groan into the night.

“Gwen, are you trying to fall on your ass?” I back us up to the wall of the building, next to the door to her apartment. The bricks will help me hold her but I don’t know how much more of that I can take. “Careful, little thief.”

Gwen giggles (one of my favorite sounds to jack off to, I’ve got like ten videos on my phone), and does it again. “I just wanted to feel you.” She blushes when she says it and gods damn I need to get this woman inside. I scrabble for the door, easily holding her in just one arm, and thankfully find the handle without too much fuss. The latch releases and I’m in. I’ve seen her apartment a million times, daily, honestly, but now I’m seeing it all differently. I’ve imagined fucking her on every surface of this place, and now I’ve got my pick.

Except really, there’s no choice. Gwen deserves for me to fuck her on the bed. On the sheets I gifted her after Preston died so she wouldn’t have any lingering scent of him on her. The sheets I picked for how their grey color matched my own skin. The sheets I might have come on and washed before I gave them to her so she’d smell just a little bit like me, instead.

I should absolutely stop kissing her to get us safely to the bedroom, but I have made the journey enough times that I’m confident I can do it without looking. OK fine, it’s possible that I have practiced making the journey to Gwen’s bedroom with my eyes closed. After Preston died, I started to realize that I actually might have a shot with her, but I knew that it was still way too soon to make a move, so I needed to do everything I could to buy myself some time. So, if that included jacking off on the new sheets that I gave her and practicing walking to her bedroom, so sue me. I’m not some monster—well yes I am—but I’m not some stalker, I’m her best fucking friend, and I realize that she probably needed some time to deal with all of the emotions that she had about Preston.

Emotions that I am currently not really capable of thinking about, because she keeps grinding her pussy against me and I’m actively trying not to come in my pants before we get to the bedroom. When we go through the door, I have a brief moment of panic, because I don’t know if I should turn the light on or not. Does Gwen like having the light on when she’s having sex? Does she prefer that it’s off?

I never really considered before how many things there are to juggle during sex. I’m literally holding her up, so I’m paying attention to my hands on her ass and that is very distracting, she’s grinding on my dick, so that is extremely distracting, I’m trying to kiss her and not suck at it, and that is very distracting, and now I’m trying to figure out how she likes to have sex and having a mini panic attack about the fact that I have no real idea how to have sex, and that is extremely distracting.

Luckily, Gwen, goddess of my life, reaches over and turns on the lights. I am flying by the seat of my pants and the grace of what I’ve seen in gargoyle-human porn. Lucky for me, a lot of the porn where the guy is a gargoyle and the woman is a human is specifically made for women, so in my experience it seems to have a few more actual tips than porn made for straight men does. And, considering the fact that the love of my life was married to my brother, I kind of assumed for a long time that I would essentially be single forever. So, I’ve watched a lot of it. I know enough to know that I definitely shouldn’t go into the deep end and try to do any kind of kinky stuff, but I do know a few things that I should definitely do:

Number one, make sure she comes. A rule of thumb I have learned from watching copious amounts of porn is that she needs to come at least once before my cock is going anywhere near her pussy. Another thing I have figured out for myself in advance is that I cannot—under any circumstance—allow her to touch my cock before she has.

Number two, I should talk to her. I need to say things out loud. Luckily, gargoyles tend to be growly guys, and the ladies in the pornos at least seem to be into it, so I’m gonna lean into that.

Number three, I should follow her lead on what she’s into. I decided a long time ago that if I ever got the opportunity, I was going to dedicate myself to paying attention to what she liked.

Number Four, if something’s working, don’t stop. I bought myself a subscription to this website that has a study about women’s pleasure. And one of the very first things that I learned was when something is working just keep doing it. Oftentimes for guys, when we are enjoying something, we want to go harder, faster, more. My modus operandi is that if she seems to be enjoying something with her movements or her sounds, I am just going to keep doing that unless she tells me otherwise.

As I say all of these rules, I’m realizing what a fucking creep I sound like, but I just knew that if I ever got my chance, I couldnotbe fucking it up. So now that I have thought of the rules, I have centered myself a bit, and I feel more prepared to not suck at this.

I lean down over the bed and drop Gwen back onto it. She bounces, and her tits jiggle, and it is better than I ever imagined. She is wearing this pink T-shirt that has a D20 on each of her boobs, beneath that it says they’re natural, and she’s every nerd’s wet dream. She laughs, her eyes sparkling up at me, and for a moment I’m frozen staring at her.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this, Gwen.” Hell yeah, rule number two is in the bag.

She blushes and kicks off her sneakers, and then shoots me a chastising look. She’s reaching for her feet, I presume to take off her socks. “The bed move was cute, but in the future, you might wanna wait until I’m actually undressed first because I don’t know how I’m supposed to lay down and get undressed like this and be sexy. This is not sexy.”

I almost laugh in her face. Because if she thinks that her adorable ass rolling around on the bed, trying to take her socks off while laying down and still being whatever she deems as sexy in her head is not fucking sexy, then she has no idea what I think is hot. Because I decide in this moment that there is absolutely nothing hotter than the woman I love trying to get naked for me.

I place a hand on her knee, the one that is raised in the air so that she can reach said sock, and slide my hand up until I reach the edge of her shorts.

“I honestly didn’t plan on you taking your clothes off at all. I hoped you’d let me.”

Gwen blushes again, smiling, and squeezing her eyes shut. Her hands fly in front of her face, and my cock twitches in my shorts, because yeah, there is absolutely nothing hotter than seeing my girl get flustered from something I said or did.

I take back every worry I had about doing this, this is the best day of my life.

“Okay,” she squeaks out from behind her hands.

Now is when it gets real. Arguably, I have seen Gwen in a bathing suit, so I know somewhat what to expect. Yet, this is entirely different. Because bathing suits are intended for public viewing, but her underwear are private. I move my hand up the inside seam of her shorts, unable to stop myself from tickling her pussy with my claw over her jean shorts. I watch her face, and she squirms a little, so I linger, trailing the tips of my claws over the fabric. This is another tip that I got from that website study—I need to send those people a muffin basket or something—because all of my imaginings could never have prepared me for the way she squirms and moans when I tease her. As I watch, I don’t understand how any man could not be enraptured by the sight of the woman he loves taking her pleasure. Because I don’t know if there is anything better I have ever experienced, than seeing Gwen rising underneath me when I’m only touching her with the tips of my fingers.

“Gabe!” She eventually screams. “Quit teasing me!”

Now, we have come to a decision point, do I follow her instructions, and move onto my next task, or, do I continue to tease her? As compelling as teasing her sounds—and it sounds really fucking compelling—I’m starting to think that it might be somewhat of an advanced technique, so I err on the side of caution and follow her instructions.

I pop the button of her jeans open and lower the zipper. My eyes widen as I see a pair of plain cotton panties. I have helped Gwen do her laundry enough times to know a few things. She has a bunch of these plain cotton panties. And from what I can tell, she wore them on weekdays. She also has a few pairs of ostensibly sexier, lacy panties, that only ever showed up in the laundry when Preston was in town. So, while some guys might fantasize about those lacy underwear, I have always imagined her in these because I want Gwen how she is most comfortable, not the Gwen, who feels like she has needed to prepare herself for anyone further, there is also a good chance that these underwear are not going to smell like Preston at all. I tug at the waistband of her shorts and pull them off, kneeling at the end of the bed. The smell of her arousal is stronger now, and it is everything I can do to not shove my face directly in her pussy, but I need to get her top off. So I stay focused.