40. Please stay

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Rory's nails dig into my skull as I wrap my lips around her clit and suck it lightly, her soft moans filling the room and sending shivers down my spine. No matter how long we do this, the sounds coming out of Rory's mouth will never cease to have this effect on me, even more so now that I know I am the only one who gets to hear them.

I run my tongue along her fold and draw circles on the base of her bundle of nerves, her legs start buckling hard and I can feel her whole body tensing, getting ready to climax. When she comes, she does hard and loudly against my mouth, my name being almost screamed makes me want to begin again as soon as she rides out this orgasm.

I don't, though. The moment I hint at going at it again, she gives me a death glare, declaring four orgasms in a row are enough for now, at least until we put some food into our stomachs.

One big change I noticed in Rory in these months we've been dating is that she is now eating more than she used to, finally letting herself enjoy one of her favorite pleasures in life. She claims it's because all the physical activity we've been doing allows her to be a little looser when it comes to dieting, and I couldn't be happier, because I love women with a good appetite and well, I am always up for an extra 'training session' whenever we eat a little more than usual so that she can burn the extra calories.

"What would you like to eat?" I ask, lying down next to her.

"Mmm, I'm not sure. What would you like?"

"I've already had my favorite meal. Twice," I grin, thus earning an eye roll and a playful slap on the arm.

"You're a pig!" she claims, and I can't contradict her there. "Come on, let's go see what your pantry has to offer."

Turns out all my kitchen has to offer is grilled cheese. With Jean being at Nataniel's for the weekend, and having Rory naked in my bed for the past six hours, grocery shopping hasn't exactly been on top of my mind.

"So, now that I'm your girlfriend, do I have the right to lecture you for your incredibly unhealthy way of feeding yourself, and me in the process?" she says in between bites of grilled cheese. She doesn't sound like she minds my unhealthy diet at all.

"You can try, but I can't assure you it's gonna work," I mumble as I take a huge bite off my sandwich. Health be damned, I love this thing! Besides, I'm American, I'm pretty sure our DNA is designed to give us a high tolerance to junk food.

She shakes her head but smiles, covering it with her sandwich, but I can still see it. She's sitting on the kitchen counter wearing just one of the long t-shirts I use to sleep in, her hair is still tousled from our earlier sex marathon, her make-up is almost completely faded, and she's eating grilled cheese as if it was the most delicious food in the world. She looks stunning and all I can think about is taking her on that same counter. What can I say? Maybe I really am a pig.

"I'm gonna have dessert now," I announce.

She doesn't need to ask what kind of dessert I am referring to, as my face is probably really transparent about my intentions. She just throws her head back and laughs.

"You are insatiable!"

"And you," I say as I go down on my knees in front of her, spreading her legs and removing her panties, "are delicious."

She might be right, I might be insatiable, but I cannot resist. Everything about her is highly intoxicating to me - her smell, her taste, the sounds that she makes...

I am so caught up in what I'm doing that I don't notice that someone is in the house with us until I hear a loud "what the fuck??" coming from behind me that makes me stop dead in my tracks.

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