Page 46 of Size Queen

He finally gives me what I want and plunges his hard dick deep, but slowly, inside my warm walls. I yell in carnal bliss—part pleasure, part pain—ecstatic from the way his dick feels against my aching cunt.

“God—you’re so damntight, girl!” he cries enthusiastically.

I’m grateful that he doesn’t comment on the unorthodox amount of moisture and sensitivity and decides to just enjoy himself. His face, always indescribably sexy when in the throes of ecstasy, softens slightly while still retaining his aggression and raw form.

“Sofucking wet and tight…” he murmurs. “What did I do to deserve this?”

If only you knew…

He grabs on to both of my breasts again, playing with them as they bounce with our movements. He twists on my nipples, fucking me faster with each moan I let out. It’s the strangest thing—I want to let him know how my chest feels, but through all the pain there is stillsuchjoy. I can’t bear to let it stop even for a second.

I’m about to cum, as is he, but what sends me over the edge and breaks my dam is his passionate kissing. He leaves soft, wet kisses on my lips, my cheeks, my ears, and especially my neck… I rock and flail whenever he tenderizes certain spots on my neck. Whenever he plays with my titsandkisses and licks my neck…? Suffice to say, I’m achieving too many climaxes to count.

He fucks me hard enough that we combust and release together. I can feel his juices mixing with mine, and I’m beyond exhausted.

We lie together in bed,holding each other, breathing heavily, and still trying to relax after our full session. My tits are numb, my pussy is filled, and we are both utterly spent.

I can’t tell the time, but I know it’s late. It’s pitch-black, without a hint of moonlight to be seen. At times, I wonder if his heavy breathing is from sleep, but I’m afraid to turn around and face him to find out, fearing I might accidentally wake him.

I want to fall asleep desperately. As the night slowly morphs into the very early morning, I begin to anticipate what the light of day will bring—not just in terms of the sun, but my newly routine sick spells. Just thinking about getting sick again is enough to make me start to feel sick in reality.

Since I’m lying in bed, I’m able to get comfortable enough to try and soothe the savage beast that is my tummy. I know that if I could just fall asleep and beat my stomach by default, I wouldn’t have to leap out of bed and likely wake up Damon.

To avoid thinking about getting sick, I try thinking of anything else. But with Damon’s arms wrapped around my belly and his body pressed against me, I can’t think of anything else but the pregnancy.

I wonder what he’ll say when I can finally summon the courage to tell him? I don’t want to do this alone—and this feels so good… Does this feel right because it is right or because I’m afraid of raising a child alone?

I can’t fucking believe I let this happen…

I’m unable to control myself any longer. I start to cry, the tears falling down my face, and I hope I don’t start sobbing. I don’t know what’s going to happen, so I take my chances and maneuver myself out of bed as covertly as possible without stirring him from his slumber.

I successfully make it out from under the covers and out of the bed. As I make my way to the bathroom, I feel not only the wetness from my eyes, but also in between my thighs. I can feel his cream filling overflowing out of my cunt. It feels like he’s given me every ounce of cum he had stored in his full balls.

I pick up the pace, feeling on the verge of completely breaking down. I rush into the bathroom and unintentionally close the door loudly behind me. This error only serves to break me even further. Somehow, I know he’s going to wake up, and I know he’s going to try to talk with me. I lock the door, thinking that will somehow prevent me from having to explain myself.

I sit near the toilet, just in case. I cry into a towel, suppressing my sobs as best as possible. I can’t stop myself from crying—I’ve been holding it back for days, and it’s time for me to let go and succumb.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting on the bathroom floor, but eventually I hear a light knocking on the door.

“Noelle?” Damon says from the other side of the door.

I rub my face in the towel, trying hopelessly to compose myself.

“Noelle, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I reply.

“I just… you’ve been in there a while, and I was just making sure everything was fine,” he adds. “What’s up?”

“Nothing… Do you need to use the bathroom?”

“No, I just—wanted to know what was going on,” he stuttees. “You can talk to me, you know…”

I believe more and more that he must have heard me crying. This thankfully gets me to put a stopper on it, but that doesn’t make me want to unlock the door and face him.

“I’ll be okay.” I sniff. “I just… I want to be alone for a little while.”

I think maybe he’s gone back to bed, but I can still see his shadow from underneath the door. I want to leave the bathroom and hug the sheets and pillows against me until I feel like it’s okay to leave my home. In that moment, I want to be completely and totally alone.