Authors: Desmond Haas
I feel Sam’s cock expand as he thrusts deep into me and time stopped for that one brittle period, an eternal calm. He pulsed, and his cum explodes inside me. His spurts and the spreading warmth triggered me.
“Oh God, Sam…Sam…Hold me!” I yelled, my cum bathing our sex, flowing out between Sam and me. I lost control, my pussy clenching Sam’s cock. I fell on top of him, my legs vibrating, clutching his chest and for a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
Somewhere, I feel Sam rubbing my back and hear his voice, but I can’t understand the words. Slowly, my eyes focused and the trembling subsided, but the emotions are too powerful. I sob, tears flowed, and I put my arms around Sam’s neck, holding him near me.
“I love you,” he says.
“I know, and I love you.”
Sam’s cock slipped from me, and while I felt the loss, it was replaced by intense emotions, brought on by where we’ve been and what we’ve come through. I never thought I could love this man any more than I did. I was wrong.
I didn’t want to move from where I was, lying on top of him and feeling him gently glide his hands over my back.
“Sam?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not on the pill any more. My prescription from London lapsed, and I haven’t seen a doctor here. I didn’t think I needed to.”
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“Do you want a baby?” I ask.
“You mean a Sam Junior?”
“Yeah, a Sam Junior or a Samantha. Do you want one?”
“At least one. What about you?”
“I can’t wait to see you changing diapers.”
“You’ll have to teach me,” he said.
“Hold me…I want to feel your arms around me. Hold me tight.”
“I have you, baby. I’ll never let you go.”
The End
About The Author
Desmond Haas lives in upstate New York, USA, where he hides himself from his family, two dogs and five cats, and pounds on a keyboard to try and make sense of the words and images in his head. Writing, he says, is an invisible performance art.
He considers himself to be a renaissance man, stuck in time, working with various media, including photography, to express himself. While most of his book and short stories are contemporary erotic romance, he is secretly working on other genres in his underground lair.
Above this lair, he lives with his wife, two teenagers, two large dogs and five cats. As he is a reverse snow bird from Florida, Desmond relishes the four season climate, but hates cleaning the snow off his car in the winter.
Desmond Haas / [email protected]