by Jamie Knight
“I love you, my pet,” I said, overcome with warm emotion.
“I love you, too, sir.”
Chapter Seven - Brigid
It was like heaven. My rational mind knew it wasn’t the same but I didn’t care. It was as close to Leif actually fucking me as I was able to get right then and I loved every second of it. I had never orgasmed so hard.
“Turn around, pet.”
I barely heard his words but obeyed him nonetheless, not even thinking about what it was he might have had in mind.
“Good girl. I want you to lube your asshole.”
As though on autopilot, I put the dildo down in front of me on the chair, figuring I would need it later, and got the bottle of lube. I had never done anal stuff before, but was thrilled to try if it was with him.
The lube was cold, but that was the worst of it. Aside from the initial shock, it felt really good on my asshole. Tentatively, I started massaging it in, rubbing around the outside ring, then pushing in. I let out a short moan as my fingers filled my bum, the muscles stretching in their wake.
“You okay, honey?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now I am gently cleaning your hands with the wet wipes.”
I did so, not thinking about how he knew I had those. I just figured they must have shown up on my camera. I really didn’t know how to configure it outside of turning it on.
“Lube me up,” Leif directed.
“Yes, sir.”
I did as I was told. Getting the dildo nicely lubed, I replaced the bottle on the desk and waited for further instructions.
“I am sliding it in slowly.”
It wasn’t bad at first. Aside from the chill of the lube, it actually felt really good, easing the head of the dildo up my virgin asshole. Imagining it was Leif’s beautiful cock. I got it nearly halfway up its long shaft before I had to stop from the pain.
“Ready, honey?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I am fucking you gently.”
Taking him at his word, I moved the dildo in my tight little hole, moaning softly with each small movement.
“I’m going a bit harder.”
I started moving with more force, building up to a regular, moderated rhythm, waves of intense pleasure washing over me.
“I am reaching around and stroking your pussy.”
I gently stroked my pussy as I fucked my asshole, the pleasure getting even stronger than before. No one had ever made me feel this way.
I thought I might pass out from sheer joy as I came. Instead, I just collapsed on the chair, my face pressed up against the cool leather, panting as I tried to recover.
“I am slowly pulling out,” Leif prompted me, the game still on.
Pulling myself together, I gradually withdrew the dildo from my ass. I shuddered with every passing inch. Without much left to talk about, we logged off after saying our goodbyes, and I crawled into bed, body wracked but soul singing.
The next day was the same ritual. Meegan at work. Polly fed and dressed. The two of us rolling through the park like tourists on a safari. Leif was sat under our tree, bike beside him, reading a book. Looking stoic and beautiful.
“Hi,” I said, sitting down on the grass six feet from him, Polly on my lap.
“Hey, jellybean.”
“Jelly-beens?” Polly asked.
“Not now, baby.”
“Here you go,” Leif said, taking a twist-tied bag of jellybeans from the side-pocket of his jeans.
“What do you say, baby?”
“Tank you?”
“Exactly.”
I started biting the beans in two, giving her half at a time, trying to limit her sugar intake and spare her baby teeth a reckoning.
“How are you feeling?” Leif asked tactfully.
“Wonderful,” I guessed, happiness trumping better judgement.
“Good. I got a bit of news today.”
“What’s that?” I asked, barely preventing myself from calling him ‘sir.’ That was a special name I wanted to reserve for the bedroom.
“Enough people have recovered that the lockdown is over.”
I was too struck to speak or even move. The sheer weight of potential and release of restriction crashed down on me. Leif came over to us, getting closer than he ever had before, dropping down on his knees.
Pecking Polly on the forehead, which made her giggle, he lovingly cradled my cheek in his warm, surprisingly soft hand and kissed me tenderly. I responded in kind, our tongues moving softly around each other, a rogue tear of joy rolling softly down my cheek.
“Mama happy?”
“Yes, baby, very happy.”
“Good, because I want you to come live with me,” Leif said.
I was once again stunned into silence, unable to find the correct words to express my abounding happiness. In the end I found just one, one that seemed to say everything.
“Yes.”
I was still in a daze when we got home. Leif had gone back to his place to finish getting things ready, and I still had to pack. It hurt to separate after finally getting to be close, but it was in preparation for starting our life together, so I took it on the chin. Little did I know there was about to be a harder punch coming.
“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw!” Meegan announced, breezing through the front door five hours early. Unlucky. I had hoped to be packed and gone by the time she got off work.
“What happened?” I asked, coming out of the bedroom.
“The fuckers told me to go home! Like I’m the first one who ever took a nap in the janitor’s closet.”
“You don’t say,” I said, going back to get the last of the suitcases.
Meegan had somehow missed the stack of luggage behind the door she had practically kicked in.
“I have to take three days off!”
“I can’t imagine,” I said, going to get the last suitcase from the now-empty room.
“Wait a minute, what’s all this?”
Finally, the marrow of the matter. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. I braced myself for impact.
“Leif asked me to move in with him.”
“What?”
“We - Polly and I - are moving in with Leif.”
“Loser Guy? You said you were done with him!” Meegan protested.
“No, you said I was done with him. I said nothing was really happening. Things change.”
It took a moment for Meegan to process this new input of data. I could almost hear the old-fashioned modem noises coming from her ears.
“What’s he going to do? Pick you up on his bike? That’s going to take a lot of trips, isn’t it? I wonder if he lives in a walkup,” Meegan continued to tease, even as she followed me out with Polly.
“I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter,” I said, staying strong.
As if on cue, a sleek, beautiful sports car that looked like it had been carved out of black onyx pulled up, the engine purring quietly with an electric hum. It made Knight Rider look like a Model T.
Leif got out of the driver’s seat, wearing a tailored, black Ralph Lauren suit with a silk shirt, his sparkling blue eyes covered by Alexander McQueen shades.
“That a Tesla?” Meegan sputtered, no doubt looking for an angle.
“Fuck no. I designed this car myself. Needs to be charged twice a year and can reach ninety on the straight-away.”
“But she said you had a bike.”
“I prefer the bike,” I told her. “But I also have this. I have lots of toys. I’m a billionaire.”
The look of shock on her face was priceless, and matched only by the look of surprised happiness on Brigid’s.
Chapter Eight - Brigid
The deceptively large trunk space was more than enough to fit all our stuff. Polly - from her built-in car seat - and I waved to a stunned Meegan through the frosted blue windows as Leif pulled away from the curb.
“Weeee!” Polly declared gleefully from the back.
“I think she approv
es,” I said.
I wasn’t really sure how to react myself. We sat mostly in silence as he drove us a long ways out from the city. Eventually, of course, we reached our destination.
The gates served as a clue. Eleven feet high and flanked by guardian berserkers, or at least stone carvings of such, set into the top of the stone wall on either side.
The house, a mansion really, was so big that I could see it a good fifteen minutes before we arrived, still with miles of property to go over first.
The car pulled up into a custom-built shelter mere steps from the front door. We were barely out before a troupe of footmen came out and started unloading the back, marching two by two up the impressive marble steps.
By the time we had ourselves gotten into the house they had disappeared, along with our things. I was struck by an irrational pang of worry.
“They are in your rooms unpacking,” Leif said.
“I thought I would be you, know, with you.”
“Oh, you are. I also set up a nursery for Polly. I figured she would want her own bed. Please, make yourself at home.”
I sat on the first couch I came to, trying to convince myself that this was all real and not some kind of beautiful dream.
“How?”
“I got lucky,” Leif said, sitting down next to us.
“On the lottery?”
“Oh, no, every cent was earned. I’ve always been good with computers, and I happened to graduate from M.I.T. just when a master’s degree in computer engineering would be most relevant. I started a company that wrote security software, using other white hat hackers to ensure the strength of the programming, and it just grew from there.”
“You’re a hacker?”
“I was, only gray hat, though. Went by the name LOKI. Master of mischief. Silly pranks really, like creating parodies of white supremacists. Like instead of White Internet Nationalists we would make it Weird Introverted Nerds, though their homepage looked identical, right down to the font on the initials.”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but it sure sounded impressive.
“Wow, so you really are a billionaire.”
“Yes, but usually I try not to make a big deal of it.”
The footmen trooped back down the stairs in perfect unison, before disappearing down into the basement. As though on cue, Polly yawned wide. I wasn’t surprised. She’d had a big day.
“Sleepy, ladybug?”
Polly nodded quickly, too tired to respond. I stood slowly, Polly laying her head on my chest.
“I’ll show you to the nursery,” Leif said.
“Thanks.”
It was lovely. Polly’s old toys were mixed in with new ones Leif must have bought. Her crib, an ancient-looking mobile hanging over it, was at the center. Polly was fast asleep by the time I lay her down in it.
I wasn’t sure what was happening at first. I had been waiting so long for Leif to touch me, it didn’t quite register when it finally happened. I felt a hand lovingly squeeze my ass.
“Want to see our room?”
“Yes sir,” I whispered, my submissive side coming out in full force.
It was as big as the entire house Meegan and I grew up in. He had decorated it with tasteful, earlier-century reliefs and antique furniture. Murals of scenes from Norse mythology were painted on the walls in photo-realistic detail. Everything was centered around the Edwardian four-poster bed, complete with curtains, that was set in the middle of the huge room.
Swooping me up into his strong arms, Leif carried me over to the bed, kissing me passionately as we went. Having been set down on my feet, I stood still as he gently undressed me until I was naked and vulnerable before him.
He started with my cheeks. His hands ran over my entire body, getting to know every inch of me, his tongue following close behind. Eventually, his erotic sojourn ended when he came to my pussy, already damp and pink with excitement at the very thought of his touch.
Tenderly spreading my silken lips with gentle fingers, Leif caressed my aching little pussy with his tongue. I moaned, long and loud, not having to worry about being heard anymore. Taking this as encouragement, Leif slipped a finger in next, lovingly working me as he licked me.
I thought I might pass out, my knees actually buckling from under me, but Leif was there. Catching me with ease, he elevated me from the ground, transporting me onto the bed. Keeping one hand stroking my belly to maintain contact, Leif took off his suit with the other, making things even between us.
Kneeling down beside me so I wouldn’t have to get up, he fed me his cock, getting it most of the way into my mouth, and a good bit of it going down my throat. Finding a comfortable depth, he stroked my hair as he carefully face-fucked me, stimulating my clit with his free hand while he was at it. We came in tandem. Leif finally filled my mouth with his thick, sweet cum as he worked me to a deep orgasm, making me shake like a paint mixer.
When I recovered, Leif pulled me down to the edge of the bed, getting me into a similar position to the one I got into on the chair. He was going to fuck me. I tried to relax and make things as easy as possible. I worried a little about the lack of lube, but my pussy was already so prepped I didn’t think it would be a problem.
Leif reached over to the night table, stroking my clit with his thumb. To my relief he grabbed a bottle of lube from the drawer. Getting both us nice and slick, he capped the lube again and began to stroke the warm head of his beautiful cock against my open and ready pussy.
Easing himself in, making me feel every inch, Leif got his cock inside all the way to the hilt. Backing off a bit to make room, he lubed up something that I didn’t recognize but that kind of reminded me of a dildo and then reached behind me. I yelped with surprise as the chilly wet tip touched my asshole. Leif stroked my belly again, relaxing me enough to to slip it in.
“How does that feel, jellybean?”
“Really good, sir.”
With the buttplug deep in my ass, stretching me out, Leif stared to fuck my pussy, working his massive manhood inside until I thought I might scream. And then I did, loudly, letting all the pleasure I was feeling out at once. There was no other way to accurately express it.
The world started to spin. I had to close my eyes and focus to remain conscious. I didn’t want to miss a thing.
“Marry me,” Leif said, embracing me in the afterglow.
“What?” I asked, not sure I had heard him correctly.
“You are the one for me. I want to marry you, to be Polly’s stepdad, maybe even adopt her if you agree. I also want to have more babies with you. Now that we can actually be together, I never want to let you go again.”
I couldn’t speak. I was so happy I could scream. Or cry. Probably both at once. In the end I went with a response that was a touch less melodramatic.
“Yes. Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!”
Epilogue
Leif
I always cried at weddings. Not just because most of them happened in the spring and I had a tendency toward hay fever. I never thought I would cry at my own, though. I could only hope that my cheeks were pale enough that no one would notice.
There had been a minor disagreement in terms of who would officiate. Brigid’s family wanted a Wiccan priestess and my side argued strongly for an ancient Norse priest. I was fairly neutral on the subject, mostly just wanting Brigid to be happy, and we compromised with a combination of a Justice of the Peace and a Druid elder.
Brigid looked beautiful, dressed in a flowing gown of the style generally referred to as Pre-Raphaelite, jelly-bean-red hair done up in an elaborate braid, the whole thing topped with a daisy crown. Her baby bump showed subtly through the blue velvet.
Polly followed close behind, flinging seasonal flowers about the place, in a baby version of her mother’s dress. She had turned three by the wedding day, and was walking a lot better, in addition to having added a few hundred more words to her vocabulary.
Both the wedding and the reception were held in the w
oods. Our families agreed that it was lovely. Even Brigid’s dreaded sister perked up a bit despite her obvious bitter envy.
“Come with me, honey,” I said, touching Brigid gently on the arm.
“What’s up?”
“I think it’s time we gave your sister her present.”
Meegan was by the punch bowl. The one with vodka in the mix that only the guests were supposed to drink from. Rooms had been made up in the house for anyone too drunk to drive.
Her dress, a slightly simpler version of the one Brigid was wearing, looked perfect on her. Natural. She had already asked if she would be able to keep it.
“Meegan?”
“Oh, hello,” she said, at least trying to be civil.
“We have something for you. Kind of a combination maid-of-honor gift and a thanks for letting me stay with you so long.”
“Thank you,” Meegan said, her face stony.
The paper dropped away and Meegan suddenly looked like she might cry. The book was large and leather-bound. The title was etched into the aged brown leather in Gaelic.
“It can’t be - I mean, not the original.”
“No, it’s a copy, but a damn good one. 11th century, according to my research. The illuminations are quite beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Meegan said, humbleness emanating from her very core.
I had another present to give her, though.
“I would like you to meet my brother, Sven,” I said.
“Does he look like you?” Meegan asked, as though she was dreaming.
“He’s my twin, so, yes. Though our mother says I’m the handsome one. To be fair to him, he made his money as a lawyer, which is something I could have never done. You might have heard of them. Olafssen and associates?”
“Your brother is Sven Olafssen?” Meegan asked, a certain gleam in her eye.
“According to our mother.”
“Wow. That’s great. Thank you!”
Brigid
I had never seen Meegan so happy. We hadn’t had the best upbringing, which at least partly explained her adult personality. She couldn’t protect me from our abusive father when we were kids, so she started protecting me ever since.