The Taste of Trust

I squirmed below him making noises between grunts and whimpers each time he slid back inside me. Suddenly his thumb lifted and danced over my clit more lightly, more quickly and I felt my pleasure explode. He stroked me steadily, his face strained, his eyes almost pleading with me to come.

Finally I felt the ache inside me peak. Intense heat and pleasure spread through me as my muscles convulsed, squeezing Hokuto's cock in a dozen rapid pulses. I moaned without restraint, my hips jumping, my head rolling back and forth until my body relaxed and the last of my orgasm faded, leaving me feeling deliciously spent.

I looked at Hokuto and he smiled briefly and reached for my knees, moving to cover my body with his. He kissed me hard and immediately began pushing himself in and out of me again. He buried his face in my neck, his hips thrusting harder and faster. His breath was hot on my skin and I could feel the hammering of his heart against my breasts. I reached up and slid my hand into his hair, turned my head to press my lips to his ear. "Hokuto," I said in a whisper, "come inside me."

He made a noise like a cry of pain and lifted his head. His face was strained and sweaty and, I realized with a surge of affection, unbelievably beautiful to me. He grasped my breast and buried himself again and again inside me. Finally he moaned, his hips faltering, his eyes fluttering closed. He thrust a few more times and then sighed and shuddered, his hips relaxing against mine. He kissed me between panting breaths and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace, holding me for a minute.

He slid from my body and rolled me on my side, his arms still around me. He kissed my forehead and I snuggled up against him, feeling alive and sated. We lay like that for a few minutes before I sat up and glanced at the clock. I kissed him and reluctantly slid from his arms to stand beside the bed. He watched me with a sleepy smile on his face as I drew the sheet and quilt up over his body. I leaned and kissed him one more time resisting the urge to ask how long before he left, and turned to get ready for work.

It could be a few weeks or only a few days, I never knew. He would wake one the morning and begin gathering his things. Or I'd come home to find his bags mostly packed. We'd spend a few bittersweet hours together and then he'd be gone. I had no promise he'd return but one thing I knew was that not a minute of the time we had together would be wasted.