Little by little, I squeezed tighter and tighter, all the while driving my dick harder into her until her eyes widened. But it wasn’t panic that I saw there.
Excitement.
And that was only confirmed by how she started gushing as I squeezed her neck tighter, as she gasped for air. Hips jerking up, pussy muscles clenching all around me, she urged me on.
My dick grew harder, and my balls ached as I fought to maintain my restraint.
Finally, I released her as she coughed and gasped for air, but we kept right on fucking.
I was in no rush to bring this to an end, but I knew that eventually, this night would end. And she would return to her world. So, I intended to make sure that she never forgot a moment of this night.
I switched positions often, as well as my speed and our location. Taking turns being gentle and loving with her one moment and then exacting punishment from her body the next, I drew her down a path that neither of us wanted to return from.
Xiomara would feel my loving the next couple of days to come, of that I was certain. And I intended that she would remember what no other lover would ever give to her.
Bruises would surely pop up over the next couple of days from the bite marks I’d left or the places I’d spanked.
Sitting on a chair in the corner with Xiomara riding me, I knew that I couldn’t hold my orgasm any longer. And the way that she was twerking up and down my shit let me know that she knew it, too.
Xiomara bent forward, shoving her tongue into my mouth as she squeezed her pussy tightly around me. And with three powerful thrusts, I finally released what I’d been fighting to hold on to all night.
Everything I’d set out to prove tonight had been trumped by a very important factor.
I loved this woman. There was no way that I could let her go.
CHAPTER 11 – XIOMARA
“HOW DID THE FAIR GO?” I asked Ariel Brown, the director of the group home I was volunteering at.
I’d gone to school with Ariel, and when she learned that I was returning to town, she called me and invited me to come and volunteer at the children’s group home in Durham.
It was difficult to resist her plea. After all, my mother had brought me here throughout my teen years to volunteer. I’d grown a special fondness for the children during those times.
I’d been back several times and already found it a struggle not to become attached to the kids I worked with.
“It went pretty well. Six children found a home with two of them going to the same home. There are a few couples that want to return to meet with the children again. It’s always so difficult on the other side, though, because those that aren’t adopted or fostered are down for days and sometimes weeks afterward. It’s hard getting them encouraged once again when they realize someone has left, and yet, again, it’s not them.”
“I know, Ariel. I can’t imagine how hard that has to be on the little ones. But the beauty of it is, there’s always next time. Are they ready?” I asked, standing up and eager to get to the class that I taught.
“Of course, they are. They look forward to your visits,” she said, beaming at me as she walked from around her desk.
As Ariel led me to the arts center, I admired the crafts hanging on the wall that the children had created. They were so proud of their artwork.
“Miss Sheffield!” the kids squealed when I stepped into the room.
They were so adorable dressed in their blue, white, and red smocks. Children of varying ages from ten to fourteen waited for me in front of their easels.
“Are we ready to paint today, guys?”
There were varying shouts and declarations around the room as I made my way to the head of the room.
Ariel waved at me and said, “Have fun, guys!” she called out.
“All right, today we’re painting an autumn scene. You guys have two options. You can paint a pre-drawn scene, or you can free-hand sketch and paint it yourself. Remember, today we have an hour and a half, so I want you to take your time and don’t feel rushed. Who wants to paint one of the scenes already drawn?” I asked, grabbing a few sheets and holding them in the air.
“Meee!” about two or three voices called out.
There were a few other children whose hands lifted in the air.
Making my way around the room, I passed sheets out to those who wanted one before returning to the front of the room.
“Now, for those of you who want to create your design, create whatever scene you want as long as it’s a picture of the fall. And for those of you who would like to free-hand, I’ll hang this picture riiiight...here! And you can look up here as needed for inspiration,” I shared.
For the next hour and a half, I assisted, encouraged, applauded, and guided twelve brilliant and wonderful minds who simply wanted to belong. To be loved.
“Hey there, the kids did an outstanding job today,” Ariel said, walking into the room after it had emptied and the kids had gone to the next activity.
I’d finished cleaning up the room, wiping off the easels, placing the paintbrushes back into their holders, rinsing out paint containers, tossing scraps of paper into the trash, and sweeping the floor.
She walked around the room looking at each work of art, making brief comments along the way.
“They had so much fun. I love working with them. It’s funny what you can learn from kids and how their innocence inspires you if you let it.”
“Yes, they’re so full of love and boundless joy. I love what I do here, Xiomara. It’s so fulfilling and rewarding. The expression in your eyes
