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Crest and Fall

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While Loid had on numerous occasions envisioned indulging in … carnal relations with his buxom wife - what man so inclined wouldn’t have at least entertained the idea given that Yor was, objectively, one of the most beautiful women that he’d encountered in his life - he’d always assumed that a relationship would be, frankly, impossible. Her apparent violent rejection of his advances when he’d been on the verge of confession led him to suspect that reciprocation of his romantic interest, let alone the possibility of affection blossoming into something more lurid, was impossible.

He had, apparently, been wrong. 

About many things. 

Because guiding his shy and bashful wife through tentative initial forays into eroticism has given way quite quickly to something that he’d not anticipated. 

“That’s it, Loid,” she coos with an almost maternal air of compassion and concern that has him bucking his hips upwards into her palm, slick with lube and precum, as her fingers tighten around his twitching cock. “Oh, you’re so hard for me. Such a good boy.”

Unbidden, the whimper tumbles out of his lips, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth as the melody of praise she's been singing has his back straining taut, before she begins stroking his hair and hums out an ancient lullaby punctuated by whispered good boys.  

Sloppy, guttural rumbles of that word – mommy – pour out into the room, creating a simple background hum. They must look like a depraved parody of a mother cooing over her child's achievements, but it's so sublime that the pleasure of it becomes a tangible thing that he can wrap himself within - as he does when she nearly swaddles him in a blanket or allows him to sheath himself in her, cradling his head to her breast. At the same time, it's being filled up, every empty spot giving way, collapsing in on itself and overflowing, as he does when she suckles the head of his cock and slips two fingers into him, all the way up to the knuckle, probes as he whines and bucks against her, grins when he freezes up, and rolls and quirks her fingers until he erupts, making a mess of both of them.

Then she cleans him, speaking in a way that he cries to hear, just as he cries now while she strokes her generous, giving, wonderful husband's cock, tears pooling in the corners of his clenched eyes, and he can come for her anytime he wants – there's no need for her baby to hold back.

“Do you like that, Loid?” she asks as she cards her fingers through his hair. Her skin is fragrant with the floral soaps from the shower they shared earlier as the heft of her breasts nearly smothers him. “You deserve this. Just let mommy take care of you.”  

That phrase is like a vicious stab into his heart and gut at once, tears stinging at his eyes as he whines in a fashion that would disgust Nightfall, have Handler cast him out. This is the only place he’s safe. Yor’s the only person he can do this with, and she affirms that yet again as those whimpers only provoke her to bend slightly, offering her breast to him. Pendulous and heavy, the weight of her bosom brushed by his nose as she allows him to nuzzle her, lips extending towards the thick nipple, engorged and red, capping a wide, pink areola. 

The lighter flesh tugs at some deeply bruised instinct that has him lapping at it inquisitively to test her reaction. It encourages him to hear the hiss of air through her teeth, although her matronly smile doesn’t waver. She increases the pace of her strokes, though, a clear signal that she approves, so with a wordless, gurgling murmur, he closes his mouth over the entire tip of her breast, suckling and pawing with vigour.

The strokes pick up as they feed off of each other, creating a reciprocal cycle as the sensation rises up, thick with white, foamy waves that crash over every levy and barricade, wiping away Loid, flooding Twilight until his mouth gapes open, sweet, fresh water pouring in to swell him to bursting. It’s not drowning in crystalline clear streams; it’s being able to drink - at last and for the first time - until he swells and breaks with the love that she lavishes on him, cracks running through his entire body and allowing - 

Mommy!” Thick spurts of cum erupt from his shaft, arcing up and splattering the undersides of her breasts, a few errant drips and gobs landing on his pubic mound and stomach, cooling and congealing ins sloppy patterns.

“Oh, Loid!” she responds as if shocked, putting a clean hand to her mouth as she shakes her head but not in a way that makes him feel judged. “Such a mess, but that's okay. We're just going to have to get you all cleaned up, baby.”

As a matter of course, forgoing her own pleasure, she fucks his ass after he comes down and recovers slightly in the warm shower she draws for them, gentle fingers - which she coaxes him to lick so that she can use his own saliva to prod at his hole before applying lube - and the slick faux-fleshy toy spreading him. With slow strokes, hands playing over his entire body, she gentles him to orgasm while his untouched, flaccid cock sways between his thighs  

Consciousness flits in and out of his grasp like a songbird he never wants to catch. There’s a dim moment of heat and wetness, of hands through his soppy wet hair and then arms under his back and rear. Then, only naked skin to his cheek and softness all around him, fluffy fabric and pillowy flesh. 

Clean and warm, Loid falls asleep in his wife’s arms.