The Yearning by Tina Donahue

him, her breathing picked up, jiggling her breasts. With unyielding purpose, his male organ squeezed through her narrow walls, commanding shelter and obedience. She gave it, helpless to do anything else, moving down him until her engorged lips nestled above his dark thatch of curls.
    His hands fisted. Hers drifted over her jeweled navel to her mound.
    “No. Stop.” Grunting, he pushed to his elbows and a sitting position. Hands on her hips so she’d stay put and keep him inside, he edged them toward the muraled wall, using it to brace the back of his shoulders and head. Settled, he swept her fingers away so he could claim and use her clit.
    She conceded, bringing her hands to her breasts, fondling them, tugging on the nipples as he’d done, while he lazily stroked her nub. My God. She couldn’t even gasp the words—his actions and girth overwhelmed. Dominated by his shaft and fingers, intimately used as a female needed to be by a male, her vaginal muscles clenched.
    His cock answered by swelling a bit more.
    Her head slouched to her back, her hair trailing past her shoulder blades. She lifted herself from his penis, nearly releasing him before slinking back down. His fingers paused in their stroking, her movements destroying his concentration.
    For her, the world consisted of this moment, having him tunneled within. Again, she pushed up and coasted down, while roughly caressing her breasts. He produced a sound somewhere between a grunt and a growl, the kind only a man can manage if driven past all boundaries.
    Bucking his lean hips to drive himself deeper and to hasten her strokes, he resumed playing with her nub, knowing her lack of endurance, goading her to the brink. Heavy with lust, her pussy swallowed him a bit deeper, the muscles flexing painfully, begging for relief and an end to this blessed agony. He tried to lengthen it until she slowed her strokes as he’d slowed his. With both wanting to win, they each conceded. This time they came together, panting and writhing, with neither able to resist.
    Physically drained, Jasmine slumped to his chest, cherishing his scent and heat as a forgotten comfort settled over her. It wouldn’t last. It never did since the curse, so she kept her eyes closed and didn’t move, intent on relishing each blissful moment.
    Not even trying to hide his fatigue, Mike’s hand bumped limply down her spine to settle on her ass. “Wow.”
    She giggled so hard it stole the last of her breath. Right behind it, tears returned. She wanted this to continue, to endure. His presence reminded her of the loneliness she’d borne prior to the curse, and the despair she’d known since then. How could she let him go? How could she not? Snuggling closer, she tried to become a part of him, to pull his strength into her for the long days ahead.
    “Hey.” Doubt laced his voice. “You okay?”
    She lied. “Hungry. You?”
    “Enough to eat my own cooking.” He continued over her newest giggles. “Want me to order a pizza?”
    “It’s too late.” Even if there were an all-night place with delivery, if someone saw him here and she found she couldn’t let him go… No, she wasn’t yet ready to face the decision she’d have to make. Skimming his right pec with her fingertips, pleased at how the muscle danced, she put her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I have leftovers from tonight. Ham with honey sauce, potato salad, coleslaw and cinnamon cake.”
    “I’m impressed. You had me at leftovers.” His hands wearily cupped her ass. “After we’re done with our meal we can use the table to continue with this.”
    No, they could not. If Violet and Lily weren’t already here, they would be shortly. “I don’t know about you, but I miss being in a soft bed. Old age, I suppose.” As he chuckled, she lifted her face and grazed his lips with hers, adoring the bite of his bristly upper lip and cheeks. “How about I take you upstairs and let you snooze while I get the stuff? I’ll serve you