Her thighs trembled as she was moaning citing his name.
More fluid ran over his chin and down his throat. He kept licking, sucking, fingering her until her legs threatened to give out.
He rose, turned her, and lowered them both to the soft ground. He guided her over his face so she straddled his mouth while her own mouth found his cock.
The 69 was clumsy at first—her inexperience with the size of him, the way her hips jerked when his tongue hit the right spot—but the wet sounds of mutual licking and sucking filled the space under the trees. She took as much of him as she could, lips stretched wide, tongue working the underside in slow strokes, one hand stroking the thick base she could not fit while the other braced on his thigh.
Her saliva mixed with his pre-cum and ran down his shaft. Her juices coated his lips and nose and dripped onto his chest as he licked her open, tongue thrusting deep, nose pressed against her clit.
When the need became too sharp he moved them again.
Margaret on her back, knees spread, moonlight silvering the wet pink of her. Arthur settled between her thighs and lined the head of his cock against her entrance. He rubbed the thick head up and down her folds first, coating himself in her wetness, teasing the entrance without pushing in.
Then he pushed slowly. The head breached. She gasped at the stretch and the sharp, electric shock of being opened for the first time. A thin smear of blood appeared on his shaft and on the soft skin of her inner thighs. He held still, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, the tears that had started again, giving her body time to adjust around the thick intrusion.
He whispered against her lips, telling her to breathe, that he would wait.
Gradual thrusts. Deeper. Each one made her walls flutter and grip. The pain shifted, degree by degree, into heat and fullness.
When she was able to take all of him he began a steady rhythm, hips rolling, cock sliding in and out of the freshly opened pussy with wet, filthy sounds. He leaned down and sucked one breast, then the other, tongue and teeth, while his hips kept working.
Her legs wrapped around his waist. Heels dug into his lower back. Her nails scratched light lines across his shoulders.
He lifted her.
Standing, hands under the full weight of her ass, he raised and lowered her body on his cock. Her breasts bounced against his chest.
Sweat slickened both of them. He controlled the pace—slow and deep at first, letting her feel every inch, then faster, harder, using his strength to lift and drop her so that she took him to the root each time. Read the latest chapters at NovelPing.
Margaret’s moans grew louder, broken, almost desperate.
"Master... your shaft is melting me... fill me more... I want your child seeds..."
Arthur answered between thrusts, voice rough against her ear, telling her how beautiful her skin looked in the moonlight, how perfectly she took him, calling her name like a prayer and a claim at the same time. He shifted his grip, spreading her ass cheeks wider so he could thrust even deeper, the wet slap of their bodies loud in the quiet night.
Her inner walls clamped down hard. The orgasm hit her in long, shaking waves, pussy pulsing around him, more fluid gushing and running down his shaft and balls. The tight rhythmic squeeze pulled him over the edge. He thrust deep and held, cock jerking as he flooded her with thick pulses of cum. He kept her impaled until the last aftershocks faded from both of them, then slowly lowered them back to the grass, still joined.
They stayed joined for several breaths, his cock softening inside her, mixed fluids leaking out onto the ground. Moonlight still bright on their naked, sweat-slicked bodies. Soft kissing. Hands stroking cooling skin. Quiet murmurs that had no need for full sentences.
Margaret spoke first, voice small and wondering.
"I feel something different. The pain I was feeling in my heart is gone. Arthur... you saved me again. I don’t know what you did apart from making me moan, but I feel a lot lighter and happier now."
She drifted into sleep against his chest.
Arthur spooned her from behind, one arm under her head, the other wrapped around her waist, palm resting over her lower stomach where his seed was still warm inside her. He kissed the side of her neck, then her lips when she stirred slightly.
The violet curse and the emerald mana no longer moved in their usual opposing rhythm. Something in the balance had shifted. He could not tell whether the change belonged to him, to her, or to the night itself.
"Does anything hurt?" he asked quietly.
Margaret shook her head against his arm. "No pain. Only... lighter."
He guided her hand to rest over her own sternum.
"Try to sense your mana. Even a little."
At first nothing answered. Then a faint warmth gathered beneath her palm. A brief, colourless shimmer flickered around her fingertips and vanished as quickly as it had come. Margaret’s eyes widened.
"I have never... that has never happened."
Arthur watched the place where the light had been. Evidence of change, nothing more. He did not know what kind of mana she held, why it had remained beyond reach, or whether the evening’s events had loosened something that was blocked, dormant, or damaged. The questions stood unanswered. Find the original chapter at g.com.
He drew the edge of his coat over both of them and held her while the moon continued its slow arc.
Morning came with the first pale gold of sunrise over the lake.
Arthur woke to a wet, rhythmic heat around his cock. He looked down.
Margaret knelt between his spread thighs, naked still, hair loose, mouth stretched around him. She worked him with slow, deliberate sucks, tongue sliding along the underside in long strokes, one hand stroking the thick base while the other cupped and gently squeezed his balls.
She took him deeper with each pass, lips stretched tight, soft wet sounds filling the quiet morning. When she felt his eyes on her she pulled off just long enough to smile—soft, a little shy, completely unashamed—then licked a slow circle around the head before taking him back in.
"Good morning, Master. Let me serve you before I make your breakfast... My Master."
She took him deeper, humming softly around the shaft, and did not stop until his hips lifted and he came in thick pulses across her tongue. She swallowed everything, licked the last drops from the head with careful attention, and finished with a small, satisfied sound.
Arthur reached down, pulled her up his body, and rolled her beneath him on the grass still warm from their night.
"Let me do my master’s duty," he said. "We’ll enjoy breakfast together after I do you too."
He settled between her thighs, rubbed the head of his cock against her still-slick folds, and pushed back into the wet, used heat of her pussy in one long stroke. Margaret’s moan rose soft and immediate. He fucked her slowly at first, deep and thorough, then harder as the sunrise strengthened, one hand bracing beside her head, the other gripping her hip. Her legs wrapped around him again. The wet sounds of their joining mixed with the quiet lap of the lake.
The sunrise filled with the soft, rising sounds of her moans as he took her a second time. The lake water caught the new light. The trees held the last of the night coolness.
Later, when they finally rose and dressed in what remained of their clothes, Arthur looked once more at Margaret’s hands. The brief shimmer returned to his thoughts. Something had changed. He did not yet understand what, or why, or how long it would last. The violet curse pulsed once beneath his skin, slower than before, as if it too had noticed.
He would have to learn the truth of her mana. Properly. The unanswered questions walked with them back toward the house.