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It Wasn't Supposed To Be This Way	By : SpiralBreeze Category: Pokemon > Het - Male/Female Views: 10429 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Chapter Seven

September had arrived and Misty and Tracey were working tirelessly to prepare for the art exhibition. He had called to Professor Oak to send his sketch books to Cerulean City so he could choose some of his best work. Misty had used the Gym’s usual venues for advertising their shows. The only difference was she had to use credit for everything except for the programs and food. The gentleman who ran the print shop let her have five hundred copies for free for their continued loyalty and they had phoned Brock to come and do the catering (who had been a little bit too enthusiastic).

It had taken Tracey over a week to go through all his sketch books, (he was after all his worst critic) sifting through page after page of Pokémon drawings. Misty however, thought they were all beautiful, especially those older ones he had done while traveling around the Orange Islands, the majority of which featured water type Pokémon. He figured that the theme of the drawings would just tie into the Gym, seeing as there was no other way to organize them into some semblance of cohesion.

The only thing left to do was Misty’s mermaid portrait. He had been secretly waiting until the last possible minute so her belly would be bigger. She was in the middle of her twentieth week and her pregnancy was now obvious even while wearing her loose fitting summer dresses. Misty had caught her friend red handed many a time simply staring at her. A few times she thought he was sketching a Pokémon, when in reality it turned out to be her. Tracey had chuckled nervously and explained he was just practicing for the mermaid picture.

The day had now come to start said portrait. Tracey had ordered the finest archival quality drawing paper and a new set of graphite pencils. He wanted everything to be perfect. With less then a week to send the drawing to the printer’s, he was on a tight schedule. He was packing his orange rucksack and strapping down his artist’s easel and stool, when Misty came into the Gym’s office.

“Have you tried out those new pencils yet?” She asked with a smile. “I’ve never seen anyone that excited over a writing implement before.”

“I’m gonna try them soon. I’ve got your mermaid costume here, we can do the drawing today.”

“Oh... ok, where do you want me to sit?”

“Not here, we’re going up to the beach. I want the lighting to be natural.”

Misty nodded her head in acknowledgement, she had not been looking forward to this day at all. She felt fat, frumpy and tired, she also had a sneaking suspicion that despite her costume being Lycra it would probably not fit. Within minutes however, they were packed and ready for their walk to the shore. The walk up north along Route 24 and 25 was pleasant, with cool ocean breezes blowing through their hair and a flock of Wingull flying high above. Tracey even stopped to buy her a hotdog and iced tea (she argued about a Soda Pop until he settled on the non carbonated beverage).

“The weather is perfect today!” She exclaimed happily after taking a gulp of her drink.

“A minute ago you were threatening to kill me if I didn’t buy you a Coke!”

“Huh?”

“Mood swings?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” She took a huge bite of her hotdog and began to chew rather loudly. “Mmm, this tastes so good right now.”

“Yeah... mood swings.” Tracey shook his head in defeat.

He observed her in quiet amusement as she sat on the bench happily eating and drinking. When she was finished he took it upon himself to throw out her trash and smirked when she rubbed her pregnant belly with content.

“Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

“Alright let’s go, I wanna find a nice rock you can sit on right near the water.”

“I think I know just the spot.”

The pair continued their trek, this time across the warm sand. At one point Tracey had to release Marill to fend off a stray and fairly large Kingler, who insisted that the formation of rocks they were heading to was his. After using Bubblebeam, which was not very effective (with the Aquamouse almost getting snagged in Kingler’s Vicegrip) Misty called out Politoed to use Double Slap. The tag team effort paid off and the Kingler backed away, it’s overgrown pincer dragging behind it, it’s pride wounded more than anything.

“Poor thing, those rocks must be like it’s castle.”

“Poor thing my ass, did you see the size of it? It was at least thirty centimeters bigger than the average Kingler. I should have done a sketch!”

“Oh boy... here we go.”

“What do you mean by that?” He sounded offended.

“That Kingler almost had Marill in it’s pincer, and all you care about is getting it on paper!” The red head yelled shrilly.

“Hey-” Tracey cut himself off and took a moment to take in a deep breath. Mood swings. After exhaling, he continued slowly and calmly. “You’re right Misty, I’m sorry, if it weren’t for Politoed, I don’t wanna think about what would’ve happened to Marill.”

Misty seemed to ignore him and walked on ahead to the edge of the rocks. She dropped her bag on the floor and quickly stripped her sundress off over her head, throwing it to the sand.

“Where’s my tail?”

Tracey placed his orange rucksack down on the sand with much more grace than Misty had with her own bag and dress. He untied the easel and portable stool and unzipped a compartment to pull out her costume. The red head grabbed it unceremoniously, and while the Watcher set up his equipment, she put the shimmery tail on her legs with some difficulty. The young man was busy screwing the height adjustment on the easel when he heard her throw something on top of his bag and groan. He looked up, and straightened a bit shocked at what he saw. The woman in front of him was sitting on the top of one of the smoother rocks, tail fanned out beneath her and completely bare chested.

“Um... Misty?”

“It doesn’t fit.”

“The tail fits fine... oh... the clam bra?”

“It’s too small... way to small.”

“So put your bathing suit top back on, I’ll just draw the clams in, no biggie.”

He took a few steps towards her, picked up the discarded top and handed it to her. He glanced behind him, where the beach extended about a mile or south, there were a few people sun bathing and he could just make out a few surfers on their Pokémon in the ocean. He didn’t think anyone could see her, and as far as he knew, nudity was not allowed on the beach. Still, better safe then sorry.

“I was thinking... a real mermaid wouldn’t wear clams.” She took the bathing suit top and placed in on her lap, as if being topless on the beach was the most natural thing in the world.

“What?” And then it dawned on him exactly what she was getting at.

“Just draw me like this.”

“Uh...” He couldn’t help but stare at her chest. How could he not? She had full, creamy breasts, that were just begging to be touched with their dusky engorged nipples. His cock twitched at the thought, however, his mind kept wandering to Ash. What would he say if he ever saw the drawing? He had planned on printing it for the exhibition, surely someone might recognize it as the Cerulean Gym Leader. “Misty are you sure?”

The red head nodded and placed her hands on her belly.

“So how should I pose?”

Tracey shook his head in an unsuccessful attempt to clear it. He didn’t trust himself to move his hands, so he stepped back and forced himself to look at the young woman as a whole, as opposed to just her boobs. The light was hitting her from the West as it was past noon, but because they were partially under a cliff, it was just the right amount. The sun highlighted all the golden tones in her hair, and the Watcher suddenly wished he had brought colored pencils. After he found his voice, he allowed himself to speak, as he moved behind the easel and sat on the stool.

“I think you’re... good.”

He felt as if he should have said something else. He had been about to say a different word entirely; perfect or beautiful perhaps. Professionalism was the next word that came to mind. This sketch could potentially make a lot of money for the Gym and be seen by hundreds of people (there went his modesty), maybe not hundreds, but a good many nonetheless. He needed to get to work and stop focusing on Misty’s blatant sexual advances. No, that was too harsh, she simply wanted the picture to look as authentic as possible. How authentic can a drawing of a mermaid look exactly? Perhaps he shouldn’t question that.

He took a deep calming breath, the second one today, concentrating on the saltiness of the sea and freshness of the air. Route 25 certainly was beautiful this time of year. Feeling better, he removed his tin of pencils from his bag and chose the one he wanted. He opened the drawing pad to the first crisp clean page and mentally prepared himself for another glance at Misty.

“Here goes... everything.” He whispered under his breath.

Pencil and paper were his element. Once those first sounds of graphite on smooth paper were heard, his body visibly relaxed. Tracey was in his zone. He took his time, he of course could do this since his target was not moving around the landscape. Misty surprisingly sat very still, her eyes focused some where off at sea, maybe near the horizon or watching the surfers play with their Pokémon in the waves. He pondered this as he drew her eyes, pausing again to take a longer look at the blue orbs. Is she always this at ease by the sea? The answer he knew was yes. Water was her element, pun definitely intended and a smirk twitched on his lips as he concentrated on capturing that lively shine in those baby blues. Next her nose, lips... very much the Mona Lisa smile. Only, we know she’s expecting. Tracey mused. When he took a peek at her again, he realized her hair had been up the whole time. Mermaids didn’t wear ponytails (as far as he knew of course).

“Misty let your hair down.”

“Ok.” She obliged quickly and efficiently, the breeze doing the rest of the work for her by blowing it gently to her back, some locks tumbling well past her shoulders.

When had her hair grown so long? He realized that he should know the answer to that question. However, he had been too busy watching her pregnancy grow, he could assign centimeters to each day since he came to the Gym. He counted under his breath as he drew each wind swept crimson ringlet and wave. This will be the most time consuming portrait I’ve ever done. He thought, but perfection was something he undoubtedly needed to obtain with this single drawing. Tracey’s pencil followed the contours of her neck, shoulders and arms, including the hands which cradled the life in her womb. He covered her paper self’s left breast with a lock of hair just as it was in the flesh. Painstakingly, he shaded in each nipple with precision that bordered on, or indeed was eroticism. He glanced at her again, almost believing his pencil had offered her too much stimulation as if he could inflict such things from a graphite and paper effigy. Yet there she was, still looking out to sea, his manhood jumped in his shorts again as his pencil outlined the swell of her pregnancy. Here it was on paper, the source for all his pubescent teenage like fantasies, as well as a few incidents of sheer unbelievable reality. He wondered if his tiny goddaughter could hear the ocean waves, or see the brightness of the sun through her mother’s womb. Misty would no doubt bring her daughter to this very beach when she had the chance after her birth. A sort of welcome to the world, water bearer of life.

Without even realizing it, Tracey had begun the tail of his Misty mermaid, her knees bent against the side of the rock, her feet tip toe in the sand, causing the tail to fan out as if she did this everyday. Secretly coming to the end of Route 25 to transform into this scarlet haired creature of mythos. He decided to draw the tail as if it were just barely skimming the surface of the water, teasingly.

He leaned back to admire his work: his Goddess on paper. A huge grin spread across his face, he was proud of himself; really quite proud. This drawing could possibly be- no was the best he had ever done. As he glanced back at the woman in real life, who was still holding her pose, he instantly wanted to keep it to himself. No, I should tease them with her beauty, she’s- his inner self was about to say mine, no, not mine, his. He stood and wordlessly walked to Misty, holding his prize in his hands, eager to show her his masterpiece.

“You’re done?”

He nodded and sitting down next to her on the rock, he placed the large drawing pad between them on their laps, searching her face for her reaction to his work.

“It’s... you made me-” She was clearly at a loss for words. “I think it will be perfect for the exhibition.”

“It is, and I think this is the first time that I’ve been that confident about my work. I really feel that this is the piece they’ll be talking about.”

“So, I guess it’s off to the print shop now huh?”

“We can do that later, they close at seven, why don’t we spend the rest of the afternoon here?” Tracey said as he replaced the cover and top sheet so as not to mar his drawing. “Let’s find a nice sunny spot and enjoy the last bit of summer while we still can.”

“Sounds good to me, now help me outta this thing!” Misty whined as she struggled to stand, how she had managed to get up on the first place was beyond them both.

Tracey put his drawing back on the easel knowing that it was the safest place for it to be. When he took the first steps back to his red head companion he remembered that she was still topless. He reached for her bathing suit top, which she had thrown carelessly to the sand and she handed it to her for the second time that day.

“Help me down so you can pull it off.” She was of course heedless to the top again, and talking about the tail. He tried to figure out the best way to hold her and realized that it would have to be under her arms, so she could place her’s around his neck. So, trying desperately to ignore her naked breasts, he quickly lifted her off the rock and to a standing position still in his arms.

“Ok, now I’ll hold on to you and you pull it down. It’s much easier getting it on than taking it off.”

As she held onto his shoulders, he kneeled down and began to quickly as possible, shimmy the skin tight fabric down her hips and thighs, his lips mere inches from her belly button. He continued the descent of the mermaid tail, this time revealing a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. Tracey’s face flushed as he looked down the beach to see if there was anyone with in sight. Those surfers were still in the water, an older couple was walking back toward Route 25. No one would be able to see anything from that distance. Why oh why did not she possess any semblance of modesty? He supposed that as soon as her feet were free she would galavant off toward the waves and throw herself into the sea; a mermaid returning to her natural habitat. She’s going to be the death of me! His focus came back on the task at hand and what a task it was, who invented this material in the first place? Misty was now rolling it down past her knees and with a rather rough and undignified yank freed one foot, and then the other.

“I got fat.” She suddenly stated, folding the tail in her arms.

“Misty, you’re not fat, you’re pregnant, and females gain weight during pregnancy. It’s a fact of life. I just really wish you’d stop calling yourself that.” He sighed and continued. “Now put on your bathing suit and we can have a swim.”

“Nope!” She threw the tail down and she was off, jogging or skipping, should she be doing that?, toward the water.

“Good God, that’s just a ticket waiting to happen.” He said to himself, and then he called out to the naked woman splashing in the surf. “I’m not bailing you out when you get arrested for indecent exposure!”

He proceeded to carefully put his as well as her things away, he didn’t want to be around when someone caught her. Lifting his rush sack up, he scouted the stretch of beach looking for a suitable spot to set up the blanket. No one was this close to the rocks so he quickly found a clean, dry space a few yards from the formation, far enough from the surf that the tide would not reach. The Watcher walked to the spot and laid out the blanket, satisfied with it’s position, he began to remove his shirt and flip flops. Taking Misty’s discarded bathing suit in hand and placing it over his shoulder he waded out till he reached her, she was floating on her back dodging any smaller waves that came her way, not a care in the world.

“Misty, please put this on before you get yourself in trouble. You don’t need another ticket to pay.”

“I don’t need to, this section near the rocks is the nude beach, way over there (she gestured absently with her left hand) is the regular beach, why do you think there’s no one on this side?”

“I didn’t know...” Was all he could say on the subject.

“Why don’t you take off your shorts?”

“I don’t think-”

“Then don’t think, just do it.” She stopped floating and smoothed her wet hair back out of the way. “It’s an amazing feeling, no clothes, the water lapping at your skin.”

“I’m fine.” He said, trying to make the matter final.

“Come on, it’s just me, what are you afraid of?” She smirked and trailed a wet finger down the contours of his chest.

He grabbed her wrist stopping it mid way.

“Misty, you need to stop doing this. What’s been going on between the two of us has got to stop.” She tried to pull her hand back but he continued to hold her. “Do you still love him?”

She didn’t answer, turning her head away to watch a Lapras in the distance, trying again to pull her hand free. Instead of letting her go he pulled her against himself, her unborn baby between them.

“Answer me Misty, do you still love Ash?”

“I...” She looked directly into his eyes and spoke. “I don’t know anymore. I love my baby.”

“You need to make a decision, you gave Ash two weeks to come back for you, it’s been five months. The baby will be here in January. What do you want to do?”

She didn’t speak, instead she brought her free hand to rest on his chest and stood on tip toes to kiss him. He didn’t recoil, he didn’t push her away, he finally let her wrist go and cupped her chin, allowing a better angle to deepen the kiss.

Fuck Ash! This is what he left. His loss, my gain. He tightened his hold on her and explored her mouth with his tongue. The feel of her pregnancy on his lower abdomen made him all the more aroused. As he sucked her tongue into his mouth, she suddenly broke the kiss and stepped back to catch her breath. She brought her hands up to her nipples and began to play with them, pinching and rolling them between her forefingers and thumbs.

“What are you doing?” It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Making out was one thing, but he was pretty sure that display would get them in trouble.

“I can’t help it, ever since I got pregnant it’s like I’m in a constant state of arousal. Why do you think I keep a vibrator in my desk? (He had of course wondered, but never asked.) Why do you think you caught me fingering myself? (He had wondered about that too, but again hadn’t asked.) I masturbate constantly. I washed the dishes last night with a mini vibrator in my panties. (He cocked an eyebrow at that statement.) Tracey, it’s never enough. Right now, I could cum just from doing this.”

The young man couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he had heard of increased libido during pregnancy, but what she was describing was torture, or perhaps not. Maybe he needed to be the one to satisfy her. This was it, it was now or never, he needed to tell her how he felt. He needed to let her know that he would be a father to her child. When was Ash going to actually show up anyway? Things had gone far enough and now he had fallen in love with her, but was it really love or was it just because she was pregnant and he wanted a family? He didn’t care anymore, he grabbed her possessively, kissed her lips with bruising force tasting the salt that lingered there; mermaid indeed.

“Tra...cey.” She mumbled successfully breaking the kiss. “The baby.”

His clouded mind, still using his rock hard cock to think, barely processed what she had said, but as his hands slip down to her waist, he finally realized her concern. The baby. Their daughter, no- her daughter, was moving and Misty had a hand over her belly button where she could feel the child moving. The Watcher finally stopped thinking with his dick and turned her around so he could place his hands on her belly.

“I never get tired of feeling that.” He whispered into her ear, her wet hair plastered over it, the smell of her filling his nostrils.

They stood quietly the gentle waves splashing against their middles, the sounds of the ocean, Wingull and Pelipper flying high, wings caressed by the sun. Tracey’s hands were kneading her skin with the cool salty water until finally the child in her womb seemed to sleep again.

“I think, she likes the sound of your voice, she gets very active when you’re around.”

He felt a surge of pride and bent turning the expecting mother around in his arms to bestow a kiss upon her stomach. Misty giggled and sighed when he stood again, her head tilted to the side, a smile on her face. Radiant. He handed her the bathing suit which was still draped over his shoulder and took the opportunity to dunk his whole body under the water. He came back up, smoothed his hair back, his bandana still dripping and watched her don the suit. She was dressed, finally. Alas- he preferred her sans clothing. No matter, the sun was still at a decent angle, she would most likely wish to sunbathe later.

“Why is it that you’re so good at kissing?” She asked as she immersed her body, letting only her head and shoulders above the water. He copied her position, moving closer to her. The question was an odd one, why was anyone good at anything at all, practice, an inherit talent?

“Don’t know, practice I guess.”

“Have you kissed more guys or girls.”

“Guys.”

“I’ve only ever kissed Ash- and now you.”

Tracey didn’t quite know how to respond to that. She was nineteen, he was twenty-five, he had merely had more experience than her.

“You’re young.” He stated simply.

“How many boyfriends and girlfriends have you had exactly?” A smirk twitched on her lips and a devious look twinkled in her eyes.

“You really wanna know? Why?” She shrugged her shoulders, and he speculated what exactly her goal was after he bared his soul to her. “Nothing’s really been serious, more an on and off thing with this one girl, and the guys, well, drinks, dancing, and sex.”

She smiled, and he wondered if she was judging him.

“So are you a bottom or a top?”

His face blushed a bright red.

“Misty, that’s really personal.”

“Oh...”

Oh? No sorry Tracey, for prying into your personal life?

“I like taking charge, as I’m sure you’ve realized by now.”

“Oh.” That shut her up. Yet, she opened her mouth again, quickly getting her bearings. “Have you... you know?” She made a motion with her hand and mouth, but Tracey wanted her to spell it out.

“What is that exactly?”

“Have you given a dude head?”

“Ah, I thought that’s what you were trying to do.” He laughed and she splashed his face with water.

“If you must know, yes, I’ve sucked a few dicks.”

It was Misty’s turn to blush, she didn’t know how she felt about kissing a man who had taken another man’s junk in his mouth, so her next question was out fast.

“Did you swallow?”

“You do don’t you?”

“Oh.”

There is was again, those perfect little lips forming that perfect little shape.

“So which do you prefer?”

Ah, curiosity killed the Meowth.

“Swallowing or not swallowing?”

“No, I mean...” He knew very well what she meant, however this time he felt nervous.

“Girl or boy?”

“Cunt or cock.”

“Such filthy words from milady’s mouth.” She smiled sheepishly, but he continued, maybe he owed her the truth. “I’ve never gone down on a girl before.”

“Really?” Misty was surprised, hadn’t he licked the vibrator clean of her juices?

It was his turn to splash her.

“Really. I’ve tasted with my fingers, but... never full on put my face down there.”

“Why not?”

“Well, the only girl I’ve ever been with just wanted to get straight to the main event.” He sighed. “Come to think of it, she wanted it so fast, we never even took off our clothes, it was like that for a couple of months.”

“Did you like her?” Misty tried to sound more curious than hurt.

“Well, I liked her, but it was just sex, that’s literally all it was. She’d pop a condom on me- God, she must have kept them in her pocket- and that was that, I never went to her house, I met her in Viridian City, and she never came back to my apartment at the lab, it was always a quick fuck in the bathroom at the club, and one time at the Pokémon Center.”

“What happened to her?”

“Hmm... I don’t know, a couple of weekends I went to the club and she wasn’t there, by the third time I had hooked up with this guy, so I don’t know.”

“So have you ever had a serious relationship?” Now she sounded sad.

“Misty, I never have time for a serious relationship, what you and Ash have-”

There was a moment when the friends just looked at each other, their heads above the water, searching one another’s eyes, waiting for someone to kill the awkwardness that the Pokémon Master’s name perpetually brought.

“Would you like me to be your first?”

“First?”

“You said I tasted sweet.”

His breath hitched, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to taste that sweetness again.

“Come on.” She stood and grabbed his hand, quickly wading through the water to the shore where she pulled him to the blanket on the sand. She removed her bathing suit bottom and top and quickly threw herself in his arms kissing his lips.

“We can’t-” He said breaking the contact.

“Come on.” She said again, sitting on the blanket and patted the space next to her.

He took the opportunity to look down the beach for signs of people (he had been doing that a lot today). The surfers were further down, about a quarter of a mile he estimated, this time playing ultimate frisbee in the water, and no one else would be able to see them from where they were. Why am I even contemplating this? He sat down next to her, trying to keep his attention on her face instead of her pregnancy and tits.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded and laid back, spreading her legs, as she pulled his body to rest over her’s, his arms holding him up, afraid of hurting her or the baby. Misty craned her neck up and kissed him, bringing him down lower until the swell of her belly touched his abdomen. He had certainly never been in this position with a woman before, nevertheless she seemed to fit under him so neatly, her knees cradling his body. Tracey wondered how it would feel to slide into her heat from this angle, her legs wrapped around his torso locking them together, thrusting into her repeatedly till she came screaming his name. His hips bucked of their own accord at the thought; his erection was practically begging to be freed from the constricting confines of his wet swim trunks. He was so busy thinking about fucking her, that he had forgotten she wanted him to use his mouth, not his dick, and all this had been happening while she kissed him and tried to nudge him down her body.

He said nothing; yes, silence speaks volumes, and with a moment of hesitance began to kiss a path down her neck and shoulders, reaching her breasts, he gave a gentle lap to the underside of each nipple, nothing more, and continued down, the sounds and smells of the beach reminding him that he was outdoors, under the sun, in full view, and he could care less. When he reached her rounded stomach, he kissed it, and rested his ear on her belly button, listening to the sounds in her womb, the serene moment passed when he felt Misty’s hands in his wet hair, combing through it, urging him on.

He adjusted his body into a kneeling position, and inhaled a shaky breath. I’ve seen them do this in pornos, so I can do it to. He started out touching her, gently petting the red fuzz, and thought it must feel nice to her, because she sighed and she sounded happy. Next, he separated her lips, he knew where things were and what they did he knew how to finger a girl, it was just the thought of putting his mouth on them that was alien to him. He took in another deep breath, this time inhaling her scent, and he plunged forward with his tongue, taking one long swipe from perineum to clitoris, this elicited a moan from the red head, causing Tracey to smile. She tasted salty, obviously they had just been in the water, but it was the fact that she was already moist which he had to wrap his head around, guys weren’t moist, they needed lube. He decided to focus on her clit, stroking it with his tongue, he kept his rhythm and listened for her change in breathing, again the sound of the sea in the background.

He inserted the middle finger of his left hand into her opening, while the other kept her spread for his tongue to do it’s job. Her hips began to rock and he removed his hand, forgetting that he had needed three fingers last time, thus, ring, and pointer joined tall man in their massage of her inner walls. Misty was becoming vocal now, her right hand left her breast and her nails raked across his scalp, forcing his face all the way down. He took the not so subtle hint, and sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth.

“Oh God, Tracey... right there yes!”

The young man couldn’t help but grin excitedly, he was giving the woman he loved pleasure and every aspect of it felt wonderful. Her cries of passion in his ears, her hands on his head, her smell, her salty sweet taste, the sight of that bulging belly above his head, they were all a magnificent feast for his senses. He sped up his motions, pumping his fingers inside her slickness while his lips sucked and pulled on her labia and his tongue flicked over her clit.

His careful and precise ministrations were rewarded by her body arching back and her hands tugging the hair on his head, it hurt, but felt unbelievably good at the same time. When her hands fell slack to her sides he brought his head up and removed his hand, letting her watch him suck her essence from his coated digits. She surprised him, by bringing him back down to her for a hungry kiss, Tracey wasn’t sure she would want to kiss him with his face covered in her own juices, but he was struggling to keep himself from squashing her as she thrust her tongue into his mouth, running it along his gums and teeth.

His control escaped him as he reached down and pulled his erection from his swim trunks. In one swift motion, he was inside her delicious warmth with a grunt. He felt her gasp against his mouth and her body freeze beneath his.

“No.”

Oblivious to her whispered plea, he began to move his hips moaning into her hair as he set himself at a faster pace.

“Tracey.”

The sound of his name escaping her lips was all he needed to hear, with one final jerking thrust he spilled his seed inside her.

“Misty...” He gasped finally lucid enough to look into her eyes. “I love you.”

To Be Continued...
- 7
- 8
- 9
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It Wasn't Supposed To Be This Way