The Devil's Dance Pt. 02

She grabbed his ass with each hand and urged him to push harder and faster, driving him closer and closer to the edge. Few men in those moments could resist a command like that, and Borya was no exception.

"Oh Darling....I'm cumming...cumming....Ooooohhhhh!!!! Oooohhhhh!!! Dear God......!!!"

Borya let out a mighty roar, his mouth wide open and eyes closed as intense, euphoric pleasure began to course thru his body as his cock began throbbing and spurting. Natasha swiftly clamped her hand over his mouth, catching him off guard, making him scream into her hand as he struggled to break free. The combination of release and restraint simultaneously sent him into the stratosphere. He jerked and shuddered as intense contractions pumped spurt after tremendous spurt of cum deep into her pussy. He was now merely the vessel for the release of his seed, helplessly suspended in ecstasy as his body fulfilled it's duty. He released so much milk it began to ooze out of her tight pussy grip and trickle down his shaft, trailing down his balls. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he thrashed and cried, whimpering as his tied up cock pulsed and pumped, her hand firmly clamped over his mouth. He finally collapsed on top of her, now the surrendered one, sobbing with emotion as every single bit of tension, pain and confusion emptied itself from his body and mind. He was completely and entirely drained.

As he panted and whimpered, Natasha gently removed her hand and they embraced one another. He held her tightly, tears rolling down his face, as his cock continued to throb and twitch, releasing the last drops of its huge load. He kissed her all over her face, his breath coming in ragged pants, sweat beading on his forehead. With trembling arms he held her tight as they remained locked together, both gently coming down from their own place of pleasure and abandon. Finally, he was able to speak.

"Get up, darling..." he whispered after a moment. "Get up and sit over my face."

Quietly she complied, getting up and squatting over him as he lay on his back. Her milk filled pussy hovered over him, just inches from his face. He reached up and gently closed her pussy folds with his fingers, holding them there for a moment. He thought of his cream that had pumped out of his cock that was now deep inside of her. A cache of cream, nestled inside her pussy. He wished she could carry it around inside of her for a while. A part of himself, warm and deep in her body, held inside of her as she went to her meetings, sat at her desk, talked to other men. And as she would walk by him during the day, they would both look at one another, knowing her pussy was full, claimed, spoken for.

He began to coax her to push and squeeze, to release his milk so that it dripped onto his face.

"Push for me....good girl...push for me...push...."

He reached up and began to gently knead her belly as she pushed. Suddenly, a burst of air bubbled out, bringing with it a gush of white cream, which slipped it's way down thru her pussy lips, hung there, then slowly dripped down into his waiting mouth.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmm..." he moaned, catching his cream on his tongue. "Good girl...push it all out...."

She pushed again and sent another slick stream of milk dribbling into his mouth. He then had her sit directly on his face so that his tongue flickered across her sensitive clit, lapping up all of the cream he had coated it with.

Eventually she needed to get up, and excused herself so she could douche, as she did after all of their evenings together. Tonight, with the particularly big load he had filled her with, she needed to be sure she cleansed herself thoroughly. With her being in mid cycle, on top of being so full of his cream, she could have easily become pregnant.

Later in the evening after they had had their tea, they lay in each other's arms as her candlelight flickered against the walls. These were the moments she prized the most, when Borya in a good mood, his mind clear, his balls comfortably empty, his cock asleep and at peace. Everything about him exuded satiation, satisfaction. His eyes shone at her lovingly, expressing to her everything he felt without saying a word. He wanted no more talk about the events of the past week, and didn't need to say any more about the future. He had what he wanted, back in his arms, and that was all that mattered. Not what happened yesterday or what might happen tomorrow.

Just the perfection of right now.

There were only a few more days left before the calendar moved forward to 1918, a period of great challenge, change, unforeseen dangers and risks. The small dramas of the heart had to give way to the bigger stage of life, where millions of lives were involved, not just the three players in this romantic triangle that took place in those last remaining days of that cold December. Borya, Alex and Natasha steeled themselves and pressed on with their duties to the cause. The meetings, the rallies, the armies forming under their new command. They were all swept up and away with it, like small boats on a tossing sea, each navigating the increasingly stormy, turbulent waters.

As the months moved on, she rarely saw Alex, but occasionally, he and Natasha would find themselves at the same event. Everything by then was supposed to be settled and over with, but even so, when she stole a glance at him from across the room, those blazing blue eyes were always meeting hers, and a flicker of their shared time in ecstasy together would reveal itself in his gaze. He would not forget, and neither would she. Even long, long into that yet unknown future, when she heard of his assassination on that warm summer day, she wept for him and for their shared time together when their new world had lay before them bright and untarnished. In those brief and fleeting moments, before the swift coming darkness, they truly were both a king and a queen.