Public Relations III

“Thank you for the flowers…,” Laura whispered the words as sheathed Bill’s hard cock in her pussy, pausing to let her body adjust before sinking all the way down, “… they are lovely.”

And he feels lovely, she thought with a sigh.

All day, she’d wanted to feel him inside her, and that feeling hadn’t gone away during their drive home from the office, during dinner, or the couple hours they’d spent in the living area looking at the newest edition of Boxing Weekly. Needing to assuage that want, she taken him to bed and gently worked him to hardness while he continued to read the paper and she looked on.

The paper now lay near her knee, which was against Bill’s hip. She moved her hands from his belly with a loving caress, smiling at him as he watched her, glasses still perched on his nose. He looked happy, content, desire present but not overpowering him just yet. That was good. She was in no hurry, was just enjoying the connection of their bodies.

Picking up the paper, she laid it on his chest and looked at the list of bouts, her own glasses aiding the task. They were having a hard time deciding. The young boxer from Aerilon he’d wanted to see was apparently taking the solstice season off, so they’d been reading articles to see if they could find another contender boxing nearby.

As she perused the schedules, she considered how silly they looked with their glasses on, sexually engaged and reading Boxing Weekly. She smiled at the image that came to mind.

Bill’s fingers caressed the backs of her hands. “What?” he whispered.

She glanced up at him over the top rim of her glasses. “The picture we must make,” she said softly.

He seemed to consider it a moment then smiled brightly. “I like it,” he confessed.

She hummed in amusement. “You’d think we were disinterested.”

He chuckled at that. “I have you wet on my cock. Trust me, I’m interested,” he told her, the added, “and so are you.”

Closing her eyes a moment, Laura concentrated just on the fullness she felt, gently squeezed him inside her and made him moan. “Yes,” she confirmed with another smile as she met his gaze again over the rim of her glasses, “I am most definitely interested.”

Seeing him smile knowingly, she looked back to the paper. There had a couple different days they could go for certain, one they absolutely couldn’t because she was obligated. She hadn’t asked Bill yet about attending the gala at the presidential mansion with her, not because she’d been avoid it but because just hadn’t thought about it at a time when he was with her, until now.

Her attention moving from the paper to Bill, she found him gazing at her breasts, just looking, not touching. His fingers were still stroking her hands and wrists, sliding up to her forearms from time to time, but his eyes were clearly on…

“Your right is a little bigger than your left,” he announced before she could finish the thought.

She laughed softly, “Yes, that’s common.” He let out a contemplative hum then met her gaze when she asked him to look at her. “I want to ask you something.”

“Okay,” he replied and it made her wonder if he was the most agreeable man alive. She suspected that agreeability didn’t extend to absolutely everything but when it came to asking him questions, he never seemed to have a qualm about that.

“There’s an event this week that I have to attend, on Thursday night,” she told him. “It’s the winter solstice gala at the presidential mansion, and I can’t get out of it since it’s also a meet-and-greet with the incoming governors of the colonies,” she explained. “I would like you to come with me.”

“Sure,” he answered with a smile.

Laura wasn’t sure why, but she hadn’t expected such easy acquiesce, at least not without providing a little more details, making an argument that he’d be home alone without her otherwise. She decided she’d better offer him the out, just in case. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she said.

His gaze turned somewhat amused but also incredibly tender. “I want to be with you,” he said softly, moving the paper from his chest, setting it out of the way. His hands reached for her breasts then and she leaned forward so he could fill his palms. He let out a contented sigh when he took their weight. “I won’t lie. I don’t really care for those sorts of things, but I would rather be there than here waiting for you to come home. So, yeah,” he rumbled, eyes catching hers as he thumbed her nipples, making her gasp, “I’ll go with you.”

Delighted by his answer and his attentions, she pressed her hands into the pillow, one to either side of his head, whispered, “You’ll wear your uniform?”

He nodded. “The grays.”

She closed her eyes at the image that offered up. She’d seen him in that uniform twice, but only once long enough to appreciate how he looked in it. That occasion had been a somber one but she’d thought him handsome in all his regalia. The memory at this moment, though, was beyond handsome, it was devastatingly sexy. “Mmmm,” she rolled her hips, asked, “With all your shiny medals?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, bent his knees and pushed up to meet her on the descent.

She let out a thready breath when their hips met, but moaned when he said he’d also be wearing the shoulder braid. She’d seen them in pictures, most recently at the cylon war commemoration ceremony, but didn’t know what color his was. She asked him as she rose over him again, rocking forward.

“White,” he rumbled in reply, his hands finding her hips and pulling her slowly back.

“Mmmm, nice,” she exhaled, referring to both his answer and the sensation of being refilled.

“Gods, you feel good,” she whispered, eyes opening to find his already on her. “I thought about you all day,” she confessed as she ascended once again.

“Yeah?” he replied, guiding her back down onto him.

She nodded as she ground her hips against his. She took her glasses off, tossed them to the bedside table. “I wanted you, just like this,” she whispered, bowing to kiss him. She did, softly, once, twice, then pushed herself up, took hold of his hands and put them on her breasts. She slid her hands down his arms, curled her fingers around his biceps and rode him slowly as she leaned into his hands, letting him hold her up.

“Oh, yeah, Laura,” he moaned, rolling his hips under. “Ride.”

“Yes,” she gasped, closing her eyes, tilting her head back and enjoying the feel of him under her, inside her, how he pushed just a little deeper whenever their bodies met. With a hum, she moved a hand to his chest, found his heart and pressed to feel it beating beneath his skin and against his ribs. It was so strong, quickened but so steady. Like him.

Gods, she loved that about him … she loved him.

“Bill,” she whispered, her hands finding his, directing his arms around her as she descended.

He watched her, eyes intense, so focused on her as she took off his glasses and tossed them over with hers, when she took his face in her hands.

“I love you,” she whispered then captured his mouth once more, kissed him slow and deep, stealing his breath and surrendering her own.

The slide of his tongue against hers made her shiver. The feel of his hands sliding over her back, up into her hair made her moan. When he cradled her cheeks in his thick broad palms, she squeezed him inside her, wanting him deeper than he could go, deeper than she was.

She rocked against him, moving him in and out of her, rubbing her breasts against his chest, her belly against his. Her clit rode his pelvic bone, pleasure building as he moved under her, lifting and rising, spearing her again and again.

She wished could see, could watch. She wanted to see his glistening thickness spread her and disappear into the aching cavern of her womb.

It had never meant this much before, feeling it, seeing it, hearing it, the want and need of it. She felt like she was coming out of a long sleep. This meant something. It was more than a cock in a pussy, more than an orgasm, more than pleasure. It was peace in the midst of a raging storm, a thought in the absence of thinking, the perfect note heard in a soundless void. It was essential, like breathing. She needed it to live, to…

She was under him, the Boxing Weekly fluttering away with the sound of flapping paper, shoved aside by a strong hand that now held her ass, lifting her into deliberate, reaching thrusts.

Pulling her mouth, she rasped, “Let me see.”

He raised and she saw, lifting her head from the pillow, peering down, her eyes watched his beautiful, slick cock emerge then vanish, felt her body accept him with joy.

“Oh gods,” she breathed, hands clutching at his shoulders, eyes seeking out his face, finding him watching what she had asked to see. “So beautiful,” she whispered to him and watched him smile, his eyes finding hers in the few inches between their faces.

“Yes,” he murmured, lifting her higher then touching his lips to her brow, whispering, “Watch and cum.”

Laura nodded against his lips, breathing, “You, too.”

“Yeah,” he rumbled, kissing her mouth once, gently. “Me, too.”

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