Per Annum

I’d been thinking of her more or less constantly as the day approached, obsessing over her in the final weeks, surreptitiously stroking my cock late at night and picturing her body, her curves, trying to recapture the way she felt and smelled and tasted.  I tried to visualize her face, what she looks like when I am fucking her, but it always escaped me, and she’s never let me have a picture to remember her with.  I’d masturbate quietly in bed, my fingers barely moving, tiny caresses, just thumb and forefinger, up and down on my insistently erect, quivering penis as my wife snored softly next to me.  When I silently came, my back arched and my dick twitching, ejecting puddles of hot sticky come all over my tummy, my breath coming in little gasps, it was her that I was fucking, and I was coming deep inside her juicy grasping cunt.

I bought a plane ticket online, explained it away as a business trip, placed an add on Craigslist: Nightingale: meet me at the end of Elizabeth Street by the piers at the witching hour. It would all be so much easier if she’d just let me call her cell phone or email her, but she’s never given me an email address much less a phone number, and I suppose all the cloak-and-dagger business is just part of the fun for her.

The usual clusterfuck at the LaGuardia: my flight was listed as twenty minutes late, then delayed forty-five minutes, and then boarded on time only to push back from the gate and sit on the tarmac for an hour, slowly poisoning us with jet fuel fumes.

I was seated in a middle seat, between a college kid with dreads and a Nintendo and a businessman in a cheap-looking double-breasted suit who wanted to invade my personal space and kept crossing the demilitarized zone of my armrest with his elbow.  I changed planes in Chicago, and got a window seat.  The sweet grandmotherly type who sat next to me wanted to chit-chat the whole flight long.  If she only knew the real purpose of my trip, it’d stop her pacemaker.

My back was totally seized up by the time I got off the plane and wrangled the rental car.  I called my wife on the cell phone, told her I’d gotten in safe, lied and said I was checking into the hotel.  Got coffee and fast-food in a bag for dinner and struck out for the coast.

By the time I found the place and got parked, it was almost time.  The pier was just as empty as I’d imagined it, desolate, a couple of lonely fishing boats bobbing on the gentle swell.  There wasn’t a light to be seen.  Broken glass in the parking lot, a full moon riding high above the water.  I could just make out a figure below, pacing back and forth on the wooden dock.

Down a steep staircase, the dock creaking and moving gently under my feet, little waves lapping at the sides.  The water looked cold and black as ink.

She looked beautiful pregnant.  She must have been about halfway through; her belly was big and round but not yet immense like an over-filled water balloon.  She wore a simple black dress that only emphasized her great belly.  Her breasts were larger than I remembered, the rest of her frame slighter than my memory told me.  Her flesh was pale under the moon, her long dark hair halfway down her back.  She smiled when she saw me, one hand pressed unconsciously against her stomach, supporting the unaccustomed weight.

She kissed me lightly on the cheek.  If she thought I might be taken aback by her present condition, she said nothing about it.

She pulled the dress off, over her head, tossing it carelessly aside.  It landed in the water, instantly soaked through and washing away with the tide.  She stood before me, naked under the stars and the moon, presenting her body to me for inspection.

Her stomach was big and round, the skin stretched taut.  Her breasts were large and full, the nipples bigger and darker than I remembered, erect with cold and anticipation.  Blue veins made a spider’s web underneath her nearly translucent skin.  She’d let her pubic hair grow out into a neat dark triangle where her thighs met.  Her legs were long, and if her ankles were swollen at all I certainly couldn’t tell.

I quietly disrobed, feeling her eyes on me all the time.  I carefully folded my things, stacking them next to me on the wooden planks of the floating dock.  My cock was already erect, bobbing eagerly in the night air.

Her husband couldn’t possibly know about our annual meetings, could he?  I wondered what excuse she used to get away, and how she would manage it next year with a baby not even a year old.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her to her knees, shoving her mouth onto my cock as I twisted and yanked her thick black hair.  She whimpered slightly and I slapped her hard on the cheek, leaving my fingerprints in red on her pale skin.  She opened her mouth and swallowed my penis whole.

I started fucking her face hard, bouncing her head up and down with both hands as I fed her my cock, letting my balls slap against her chin, enjoying the way the slurping and gagging noises she was making mixed in with the noise of the waves and the creaking of the dock and the tied-up boats.  I could come so easily like this…

Before I got too excited, before I crossed over to the point of no return, I released her, sending her sprawling onto the rough planks.  Before she could recover, I once again grabbed her by the hair and dragged her, kicking and struggling, out to the very end of the pier.

Once again on her knees at the end of the pier, facing out to sea, the little waves lapping against the dock a few inches below.  Her pussy was wet, lips pouting open like the petals of a night flower, glistening in the moonlight.  I struggled with the condom as she waited impatiently, fumbling around with the wrapper and the slippery latex in the dark.  Finally I was ready, and I entered her with one thrust, brutally hard, burying my cock all the way to the hilts in her hungry cunt.

She was hot inside, amazingly hot and slippery wet and strong.  The contrast between her pussy and the cold night sea air was shocking.  As always, her pussy was sublimely tight, squeezing and grasping and milking my rampant cock like a living glove.

Her pregnant belly was resting on wooden dock.  With my hand entangled in her hair, I forced her face down, down, down into the cold black water.

Her ass quivered delightfully as I fucked her, and I slapped her hard again and again, leaving bright red handprints all over her buttocks.  I wondered how she planned on hiding those from her husband the next day.  Her big swollen breasts shook with every thrust, every blow, dipping down almost to the surface of the water.  Once a minute or so I would yank her head up from under the waves, letter her draw in a breath as she choked and gasped before shoving her face under water again.  The feeling of her cunt on my cock as her body struggled involuntarily, half-drowning, was exquisite.  In a different time, in a different place, that baby growing inside her could have been mine.

I admired her ass, spread out before me like two down pillows.  Her tiny little pink crinkled asshole winked with excitement.  I’ve never fucked her there; she’s told me several times that if I ever tried, I’ll never see her again.  I wonder if her husband is allowed to fuck her in the ass.

I pressed my thumb into her asshole.  Her butt swallowed me greedily, clamping down on my invading digit.  I could feel my cock thrusting inside her cunt.  I was so close to coming, I could feel myself slipping over the edge.

I pulled my thumb out and hastily withdrew my cock from of her grasping juicy pussy, clamping down hard to keep from coming.  She’s told me before if I ever come inside her, we are through, I will never see her again.  Her juices were slathered all over the condom.

I lifted her head up out of the water.  Her face was all red and her eyes were open but unseeing.  I waited while she coughed and choked, lying naked and dripping, breathing hard and raspy on the wood planks of the dock.  A couple fat droplets of milk were leaking out of her nipples, dribbling out into the night.

She got up and hit me, hard in the face, busting my lower lip.  I felt it swell up immediately, filling my mouth with the salty, iron taste of blood.  Then she walked up the dock, toward where her car was parked, leaving me alone.

I sat cross-legged at the end of the dock and waited.  It was cold, and I started to shiver, but I didn’t move to put on any clothes.  My erection started to sag, and I unrolled the condom and set it aside.

She came back from her car, wearing a man’s blue button-down shirt, and sat down next to me.  High above us, a million stars watched impartially.

I lay flat on my back, and she straddled my face.  Her pussy was still swollen and thick with tangy wetness.  From this vantage point, her belly looked immense.  Her bellybutton was threatening to pop out.  Blood from my split lip smeared onto her thighs, painting them in messy strokes of red.

I knew what she wanted.  I stuck out my tongue, as far as it would extend, and she lowered herself onto me, doing all the work herself.  She’d drag her freshly fucked cunt up and down my face, sometimes lightly, sometimes hard, sometimes mashing herself down onto me with no regard for whether I could breathe or not, sometimes lifting up so I had to crane my neck just to touch her with the tip of my tongue.  My dick slowly regained itself, straining upward in the cool night air as I licked with everything I had.  Her clit was big and red and swollen.  Her breathing changed, becoming shallower and more rapid as she got more and more excited.  She was insanely wet, and it was all over my face and in my hair.  My tongue ached and my neck cramped and my cock bobbed eagerly at nothing.  Finally she climbed off and had me roll over onto all fours.

One finger, wet with saliva and her own come, invaded my asshole.  It was swiftly followed by another.  She straddled me, sitting on the small of my back, finger-fucking my ass while she reached under and pumped my thick heavy cock.

The fingers deep in my asshole were intense, just on the edge of what I could take.  Not that there was any likelihood of her stopping if it became too much, no.  I stifled a little cry as the two fingers were joined by a third, stretching me out, probing deep inside me.

She worked my cock expertly.  She knew exactly how to touch me, how to bring me right to the edge.  Her fingers teased me, rubbing the underside of the head, squeezing the shaft tight and pumping hard and fast, then releasing me.  Every time she felt me getting close, my cock swelling and humping at the air, she would take me down a notch or two, cruelly squeezing my poor vulnerable balls in her hand.

I think she had all four fingers up my butt and was working on getting the thumb in there too.  She might have gotten her whole damn hand inside if we’d had some proper lube.  I was howling at the moon, not knowing whether I was in excruciating pain or exquisite pleasure.  Her hand was pumping hard and fast on my swollen cock as her fingers plunged even deeper into my ass, stretching me to the absolute limit and banging rudely against my prostate.  This was the moment that I would picture in my mind’s eye for the next 364 days when I masturbated or when I made love to my wife.

My orgasm started in my toes, and curled up through my entire body.  With a long, low, drawn-out groan I came.  The pleasure came in waves and peaked like breaking surf.  It seemed to last impossibly long.  As my climax finally faded, she diligently milked all the semen out of my wilting cock.  A big iridescent puddle of come spread out on the planks underneath me.

One hand still halfway up my butt, she moved on to the serious work of getting herself off.  I could feel her wetness all over the skin of my back, and I could feel her desperately strumming her clit like a heavy-metal guitarist.  Finally, body rigid and back arched, holding her breath, she silently came.  I could feel her trembling and jerking as she rode me through her orgasm.

We disentangled, and I got dressed.  Then we sat together for a few minutes more.  It was cold out, so I put my arm around her.  Her skin felt nice pressed against mine.  She put my hand on her stomach, and I felt the baby kick inside her.  A shooting star streaked across the night.  After a little while she got up and walked up the pier to her car.  When she had driven off, I got in my rental car and drove away into the night, in search of a motel and a hot shower.  I wondered how I’d explain away the fat lip once I got home.

On the flight home, I fidgeted uncomfortably in my seat.  My ass was sore and my balls were tender and swollen.  I felt discombobulated, slightly dizzy, with a sick, empty feeling sitting like a lump at the bottom of my stomach.  I had never figured myself for the cheating type.  I felt hollow, as if my skin were made of thin-gauge sheet metal and all my insides were clockwork.  And so it was to be for yet another year.

END

4 Comments »

  1. […] Per Annum. […]

  2. ElsieFanny said

    Thanks. I love the pregnant sex, the dark pubic hair, and the dress floating away. The S&M … let’s just say that I would prefer my once-a-year secret affair to be on the cuddly side. Even so, it is always a treat to see a new story from you.

  3. Rob said

    I love your writing and have enjoyed nearly all your stories. But this one…well, serious breath play and advanced pregnancy — that’s definitely So Wrong.

    • elsiewrites said

      Um yeah… Don’t try this at home Kiddies!

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