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He came up after devouring every last drop, kissed my forehead and started sucking on a tit. His tongue, his miraculous tongue swirled around the nipple. I lifted his head off and kissed him, I tasted a little of my juice. We played tonsil hockey for a minute or two. He broke off and whispered, ‘Ready for the cherry popper?’ I nodded, very bravely I thought. My head swam, it was him, Anthony. My perfect Anthony. My baby-sky-blue eyes, my tan dark skin, my muscle pumped Anthony was going to enter my virgin body and take what can’t be brought back. He plunged in and I didn’t feel anything. I was drunk still, I guess. He pumped slowly in and out, slowly because as he cursed beautifully how tight I was, he became faster and faster. I finally couldn’t take it and came again. I screamed out, I didn’t know what was happening except I couldn’t take in all the pleasure. I heard him grunt and under his breath say ‘damn she’s a pure bred virgin and tight as fuck too’ I moaned and screamed. Catching most of his cum, I sat on his hard cock andtook the rest of his juices with his still hard cock throbbing in myasshole. I slid to my side, his cock still hard in me, and we slept foranother half hour. We woke, embraced for a few moments, and showered. Breakfast took on new meaning that morning, as did our day at the bakery.We ate and touched; we worked and touched. In quiet moments at the bakery,we held one another closely and kissed. That next day was as no other dayhad ever been. I, for one, walked and worked as if in a daze, stilloverwhelmed at the extraordinariness of our love and our new relationship.Often, during the day, I would stand and watch my dad as he worked,capturing the warmth of the feeling of love that the two of us shared. Theday passed quickly and we closed the shop and returned home anxious toresume our intimacies and oneness. We no sooner got in the door than weembraced and held on to one another for long minutes. We decided on a latedinner, perhaps a.
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