Tegan

“Beat your ass like a fucking drum tonight, huh?” He said in a sarcastic tone.

I gazed down at him.

His hands were behind his head, his biceps were flexed, and he was laying comfortably on his back. His face was covered in a smug grin.

Me?

I was the loser of the night, and I was riding his cock in cowgirl position.

And with Brad’s dick inside of me, in that position, I felt like I was being impaled.

I bucked my hips wildly, taking his complete length inside of me with each cycle of hip’s movement.

“I asked you a fuckin question, loser!” he bellowed.

I wished I could have responded, but doing so was impossible. With his hands pressing down against my shoulders and his muscular legs thrusting upward against my down stroke, talking while riding his cock wasn’t even an option.

He stretched his arms wide, and then reached for my boobs.

Oh God, yes.

He caressed my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, while he cupped my entire breasts in his massive hands. I arched my back and continued my search for just the right angle.

A tingling ran through me from my nipples to my clit. I’d found it.

“If you don’t cover my balls in come,” he said. “I’ll make you go again.”

I was exhausted. We’d had sex twice already. Losing was one thing, but the punishment shouldn’t last an entire afternoon, even if it was sex.

I closed my eyes, concentrated on the feeling of having him inside of me, and hoped I could finally end the afternoon with one last mind-blowing orgasm.

His hands slid down along the outside of my torso, his thumbs grazing along my ribcage, and his fingers dragging along the small of my back.

My hips continued their seemingly endless task of riding the entire length of his dick, and my mind began to spin from exhaustion, dehydration, and malnutrition.

I felt his fingers pry my ass wide – which always drove me insane – and then…

A finger slowly pressed its way deep into my ass.

Oh. My. God!

Another finger slid into my pussy, alongside his massive girth.

Oh Lord.

I gyrated my hips wildly. The time for precision was long gone, I was frantically fucking him without regard for any style or finesse.

I felt fumbling around my throbbing – and well worn – pussy, and then…

ANOTHER finger.

With his cock and two fingers in my pussy, and a finger in my ass, my eyes shot open. Wide.

The same smug grin covered his face.

He was a gorgeous man, there was no doubt. Having him as a permanent part of my life, even if there wasn’t anything to tie us together except our love, satisfied me.

I arched my back a little more, and pressed my pussy down the base of his shaft, and ground my hips against his balls, and every digit he had stuffed me with.

And it came.

My eyes rolled back in my head.

A tingling shot through me.

And, finally, I could speak.

Kind of.

“Holy Craaaaaap!” I wailed.

As I began to come, his girth swelled to two-fold his normal size.

It drove me into the most intense orgasm of my lifetime, sending me into a mindless frenzy of bucking my hips, crying, and blubbering out incomprehensible jibberish.

Half way into my orgasm, he released inside of me, which drove me into another orgasm altogether.

Within thirty seconds, I’d collapsed onto his chest, a fraction of my former self.

I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest. “I’m…done.”

Both exhausted, and afraid to move for fear of upsetting the other, we lay motionless at each other’s side.

“You alive?” he asked after some time.

“Barely,” I said.

“Wake the fuck up,” he bellowed.

“I can’t.”

“So, you’re worn the fuck out?”

“Yep.”

“You’re going to put up minimal resistance?”

“Uh huh.”

I realized what I was opening myself up for. “Please, don’t fuck me again,” I murmured.

“I won’t.” he said. “But I’ve got something I’ve got to do really quick. I just wanted to see if you were going to put up a fight.”

“No fight.” I muttered.

He rolled off the edge of the bed. In a moment, he returned.

He rolled back onto the bed, at my side. After a few seconds, I smelled a familiar musty odor. I opened my eyes.

The Scrabble box was at my side.

I blinked. “What are you doing?”

He cleared his throat. “A wise man once told me that the foundation of a healthy relationship was formed by playing that game. Or, something like that.”

I grinned. “He told me that, too.”

“Open it.”

“Brad, I’m so tired, I can’t--”

“Open it.”

“Seriously, Brad. I can’t even lift--”

“Jesus fuck, Tegan. Open the fuckin’ box. One more game, for fun.”

He sounded more and more like Bradley every day. I liked that about him. It allowed me to do so much more than cling to distant memories of his father. Bradley may have left the earth, but he didn’t leave me. A little of him came into my life through the actions, words, and expressions of his son.

I was grateful for their similarities, and for their differences. Win, or lose, I now loved Scrabble even more than before.

I expected Bradley was peering down on us as we argued about Scrabble, and I felt terrible. I mustered enough energy to open the box, and sighed at the thought of another game. But I didn’t really mean it.

After all, Scrabble was the foundation of any good relationship.

I raised my head, rested it against my palm, and lifted the worn lid from the box.

I grabbed the velvet bag, loosened the drawstring, and dumped the letters out on the inside of the lid. As I spread the tiles about and flipped them over, something glistening caught the attention of my tired eye.

I reached for it, and then paused.

It can’t be.

I blinked. Repeatedly. My heart worked its way into my quickly tightening throat.

I looked at Brad.

He smiled, and reached toward the tiles. “The same wise man once told me, when you know, you just know. And, that day in the burger joint, I thought I knew. But, when I kissed you a half hour later, at your house, I knew. It took me this long to gather the courage to ask.”

He pinched the ring between his fingers, lifted it for me to see, and looked me in the eyes. “Tegan, I love you. You’re one of a kind. And being with you makes me feel like I’m one of a kind. I love you, and that will never change. Will you make today and all of our tomorrows special by agreeing to be my wife?”

I nodded and murmured my response. “I will.”

With a shaking hand and a dimple producing grin, he slipped the ring onto my finger. “I love you.”

I arched my back, looked up at the ceiling, and winked.

I kept my promise.

I met Brad’s gaze. “I love you, too.”

And somehow, I knew that this love would last a life time.